


Fallout

by VerbenaDestroyer



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Anger, Angst, Child Death, Death, Depression, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Love, Military Training, Multi, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, School, Sibling Love, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-26 08:03:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1680851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerbenaDestroyer/pseuds/VerbenaDestroyer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tarren, now 15 years of age, begins his training in the Academy. Before leaving, however, he learns the horrors of his parent's military careers, as well as the tragic events that followed soon after. He makes deep connections of his present to the distant memories that have been floating in his subconscious. He continues on, finds his path in life, and may possibly begin the next stage in life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Ugly Side

She opened the box, dusty and old. Her great grandmother once kept her childhood mementos in a cube of “cardboard,” apparently a rough, thick form of paper. This box was reinforced metal, containing about three cubic feet of belongings. Another sat beside it, in the closet, yet she left that one alone for now.

 

She brought the blanket to her face. It was ragged, dirty, and nearly shredded actually. She squeezed the cloth against her face and bosom as a salty drop fell from her eyes. She let out a wail.

 

> “Tarren! Garrus!”

 

She continued weeping, eventually drenching the blanket in her tears. The male Turians entered the room, sighing. Garrus sat beside her on their bed and let her lean into him. Tarren kneeled in front of his mother, holding her hands. She blubbered and went on for ages until Tarren began to hum.

 

He let his sub vocals purr as he rubbed him thumbs over the backs of her hands. She stopped and sat up straight on her own, looking into her son’s eyes.

 

> “Damn it, Tarren… Damn it Garrus, why did you teach the kid this?” he wiped her pitiful tears and laughed.
> 
>  
> 
> “Works, doesn't it?”
> 
>  
> 
> Tarren joined his father in laughter. “Mom. C’mon. It’s not that bad."
> 
> She sniffled. “Baby, it really is. You don’t understand. I can’t prepare you for war, nobody can. I’ve… We’ve… Seen so much, and it just.. changes you in ways you can’t imagine.”
> 
>  
> 
> Garrus smoothed her hair back. “He’s going to the academy, Jane. Not off to fight the Reapers.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Well of course not. But Garrus, do you think he’s going to be C-Sec forever? Or an administrator? You know he has all the potential, and paperwork isn't exactly how Tarren envisions the rest of his life.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Mom,” She squeezed his hands tighter. “I’m not going to war anytime soon. Maybe I will be in an office, I don’t know. I have to go find out. I have to figure it out. I've never even held a gun in my hands before.”

 

She sighed, turning to Garrus. He gazed back at her with a knowing look. He stood and brought out the other, massive box.  Shepard moved to the other end of the bed. Garrus opened the box and laid out dozens of medals, N7 helmet, two suits of armor, twenty dog tags, and two guns: the Avenger assault rifle and Mantis sniper rifle.

 

Tarren sat back in awe. He knew his parents were decorated veterans, as well as heroes of the universe. He had been told little of his mother’s history, aside from the extranet documentaries about the famous Commander Shepard. His father had shared his experiences as Archangel, serving as C-Sec, and a little with his time with Mom. Whenever he asked about the Reaper War, they gave each other this same look and changed the subject. Now he felt all his questions were about to be answered.

 

He noticed the blue hard suit. A huge chunk was missing and the right side was damaged… as well as the right side of his father’s face. The other suit was burned, smashed, and was riddled with bullet holes. He clacked his mandibles. His gaze wandered over to the medals; shining and glimmering despite their age. He noted the helmet. It was scratched and damaged, but N7 was still readable on the side. He finally examined the dog tags. Scratched and shining; he wondered if the names were even decipherable.

 

Garrus watched him examine the articles with his eyes, not daring to reach out and touch. He sat on the opposite end of the bed from Jane and held his rifle. He extended his arms to Tarren, who gingerly took the gun. Tarren touched the sides, holding it up and looking down the scope. Excitement shook his bones; his blood was crying out for violence. He had the urge to sit atop the roof and keep guard of the condo. He looked with glee at his father, who returned the stare solemnly. His mother looked sad.

 

Jane held Ashley William’s dog tags. She smoothed her thumb over her name and sighed.

 

> “This belonged to Chief Gunnery Sergeant Ashley Williams.” Tarren nodded. “As you know, in our fight to bring Saren down, we had to infiltrate and destroy his cloning facility on Virmire.”
> 
>  
> 
> Tarren handed the gun back to his father, who rested it in his lap.
> 
>  
> 
> “To this day, I am filled with guilt. I had to choose who died that day, because I was not able to save my entire squad. I chose Leuitenant Alenko. It was possibly the most difficult decision of my life. I am now going on fifty years old, and I am still plagued with the ‘what if’s.’”

 

Tarren reached a hand to his mother.

 

> “This is my helmet. I sacrificed my life for my crew that day. Collectors destroyed our ship, and instead of jumping into an escape pod, I helped Joker get out alive. This was found over two years after my death at the crash site of the original Normandy.”
> 
>  
> 
> “This is my armor.” Garrus held the cowl of his hard suit. “You and I are tougher than fleshy humans. But this shot almost killed me. If it weren’t for your mother… Well, you wouldn’t be here, I guess.”
> 
>  

Garrus snickered. Tarren let a small, sheepish smile come to his face, but was too excited and terrified, as well as awestruck with what had just been presented with him.

 

> “Tarren, I can’t tell you how many lives have been ended with that rifle you held. I also can’t tell you how many have been saved. Hell, I can’t even express how much it all rides on my shoulders. We don’t sleep well at night, Tarren. And it’s been over a decade since either of us have fought in battle.”
> 
>  

Tarren sighed, still holding his mother’s hand.

 

> “Son, these are just a few pieces of our history. Someday we will talk about the Reapers but… this is a very important part of our culture, Tarren. You feel it, don’t you?”
> 
>  

Tarren sat back, processing all the information that he was just presented with. He looked from the sorrowful face of his mother to the strong, confident face of his father. He nodded in agreement.

 

> “We have sacrificed so much. We made this universe a better place for our children. I.. we just don’t want to see you be hurt in the same ways.”
> 
>  
> 
> “I know, Mom.” He smiled at her. “It’s hard to understand everything you guys have really done, not to mention your brothers and sisters in arms. I just… like Dad said, I have to do this, whether I end up an administrator or a soldier.”

 

Garrus stood, putting the mementos back in the box. Shepard stood with her son and embraced him. He held his mother close, humming to her.

 

When Garrus had finished, he began to return the baby mementos as well. Shepard snatched the blanket from him, coddling it once again. He laughed at her and retreated to the living room.

 


	2. Reasons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tarren breaches the subject of his sister's death. Memories are joined and the present makes a little more sense.

Soon after the discussion, Garrus left for work. As a part-time administrator, the only time he would be called to battle is if Palaven came under attack or another galactic threat planned to wipe out the universe. He brought home a cozy check that he, Jane and Tarren lived off of, while saving their prior earnings from royalties and pension for Tarren.

 

Shep quit her similar job soon after the death of her unborn daughter, about 15 years ago. The event had taken a toll on everyone, including Tarren, who was just an infant. The heartbreak of the tragedy, the entire situation really, had made it a sore subject for conversation. However, with just his mother at the home, and not much time left before he would be leaving the nest, Tarren decided he would approach her about the past.

 

That evening, Shep sat at the kitchen table, looking over datapads. Tarren took a deep breath before entering the room. He smiled back at his mother as he walked in, and prepared a cup of tea for himself. While boiling the water, their Varren, Ghost, came walking slowly from the living room to sit under Jane’s feet. She lovingly pet the old thing before returning to her work.

 

Tarren sighed again. He glanced out the window; it was dark, but the cars illuminated the sky. His mother would surely comment about making a cup of tea this late; nothing slipped by her. But, as casually as possible, he was going to muster the courage.

 

He sat at the table with her, waiting for her to look up from her data. After a moment,

 

 

> “What are you up to, honey? Why are you drinking tea so close to bed? You’ll never sleep.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Mom,” He mustered, “I need to talk to you about something. It’s from a long time ago, and I know it’s going to be really hard, but if you can… just… talk to me.”
> 
>  
> 
> She pushed her datapads to the side and reached her hands out to her son.
> 
>  
> 
> “Tarren, is this about the War again? I can try, but I honestly can’t tell you much.”
> 
>  
> 
> Tarren sighed. “No. No, I just—I don’t have much time before I go to the Academy, and I won’t be as close, and I just need to know about something that happened.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Well, dammit Tarren spit it out then.” Her eyes were wide, bright blue but surrounded with the early stages of wrinkles. Her skin was still pale, but just a solemn few age spots had begun to rear their heads. Her hair was still incredibly dark, and the grey hairs had not yet began to show. He could see the pain in her soul; the deep torments her heart had survived. He had second thoughts…
> 
>  
> 
> “Damn it, Tarren. Say what you need to say!” Ghost rose from his resting place at the sudden noise. Tarren startled, then clacked his mandibles in nervousness.
> 
>  
> 
> “Mom… When I was a baby… I remember some things that don’t make sense. I’ve put the pieces together but they just don’t…” Tarren trailed off. She slowly realized what he was saying. She sat back in her chair and sighed, not ready to tell her son, who had already witnessed the horrible tragedy, the details of why he felt crazy; why memories and present life didn’t make sense; why the raging in his bones called out louder than any other Turian.
> 
>  
> 
> “Son… It is time that I told you the truth. You have seen it, but it is time you know.” She stood, pouring a shot of Serrice Ice Brandy. She sat at the table again and refused to look her son in the face.
> 
>  
> 
> “When you were about a year old, your father and I were still getting used to civilian life. It was… confusing. But, we had you, and our lives were complete.” She stood and began pacing the floor of the kitchen. “I ended up doing a quick mission for Liara T’Soni, which turned into an ambush. I had broken the first rules of combat: I was naïve, and I went alone. Luckily, before I got myself killed, your father, who had been shadowing me, came to my rescue.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Mom, I don’t understand how this—“
> 
>  
> 
> “He took my limp body and ran to the clinic on Omega. They patched me up enough. But when I woke, I was told we were expecting a Batarian child.”
> 
>  
> 
> Tarren’s blood went cold. He watched as his mother began to stare off into the distance. He felt hot; his blood was boiling from rage.
> 
>  
> 
> “Mother, how could they do that? What happened to them? I swear, if they’re alive—“ He stood, fists clenched and an unpleasant rumble churned in his chest.
> 
>  
> 
> “Son, relax. Do you think your father would allow that?”

 

He was taken aback. He sat again, feeling sorrow, anger, and helplessness. His heart once again went out to his parents, and he could do nothing to help them recover.

 

> “We were devastated. We weren’t planning on having other children after you, but eventually we wanted you to have siblings one way or another. Just not like that.” She leaned against the counter, looking out the window. “I had just had you. You were—just like you are now—my world. As much as I love your father, I love you more, and I always will.” She smiled at her son, who was still staring at her in awe.
> 
>  
> 
> “Mom, I just can’t believe it.”
> 
>  
> 
> “I couldn’t either. We more or less ignored the pregnancy, which was pretty hard, when I looked like I had three watermelons under my shirt.” She began to stare off again, and letting out a cold chuckle. “But we did it. Your father and I had our troubles, but we survived.”
> 
>  
> 
> “But… I don’t have any...”

 

She became very quiet, her breathing silent and her face had lost its mask of joy to show the cold, sculpted stone of a survivor. She sighed, then looked at her son as she prepared herself.

 

 

> “Your father was out getting groceries or running errands; it was just you, me, and Ghost. I was preparing for a shower when I was overcome with pain, collapsing on the floor.”

 

Tarren tried to think back; it was long before his first memories… or was it? He could remember something… Terrifying and horrible. Feeling scared and angry, but helpless.

 

> “Tarren, I… I tried so hard to not let you see. Your father and I promised we wouldn’t allow you to be corrupted by bloodshed, but… I couldn’t hold in my screams. And I’m so… so sorry.”
> 
>  

Salty drops fell from her eyes, and she could barely look at her son.

 

> “Mom… bloodshed? I don’t—“
> 
>  

He stopped. His hands began to tremble and he got to his feet. He looked at his mother with sorrow bleeding from his bones. He held her shoulders, staring into her crystalline eyes as he made the terrible realization. Dread filled his heart as his mind traced through his memories, and he found a moment; a few seconds in his mind’s eye that was as perfect as a Drell’s recollection.

 

* * *

 

> _He was screaming. His father, covered in blood, scolded him. He pulled his little body over the railing, and plopped out of his crib. He waddled to his parent’s bedroom. His mother was screaming; crying. His father was hovering between her legs and consoling her. After a few moments, the room was silent. He heard a small breath, then nothing. He turned as a Salarian made his way into the room. He reached his claws out to the Salarian's thin flesh and tore; screeched his warning to leave. He looked up at his mother; in her arms was a small child. An infant. Not breathing._

 

* * *

 

He felt vomit catch in his throat as he tried to stop shaking. He let go of his mother and paced the kitchen. He realized the course his life had taken. He was a loner during school, and asked for homeschooling for most of his life. He had a piece missing that he couldn’t place. Nights spent with fire burning in the empty places in his heart.

 

Shepard walked to the window, letting her sobs come out. Wanting to soothe her son, but knowing there was nothing she could do. This realization had to come sometime.

 

Tarren stopped. He turned, facing her.

 

 

> “The urn. Nishba’al? That’s not a—a child you found in the war, is it?”

 

 

Her face turned white.

 

 

> “It’s my sister, right? That’s my baby sister?”

 

 

She was silent. He almost laughed.

 

 

 

 

> “Why did you lie? How does lying protect anyone? How were you trying to protect me, Mom?” He started to move toward her.

 

Ghost rose slowly with achy joints, but growled as Tarren moved closer.

 

 

> “Why, Mom? How long do you think I would go along with excuses and half-truths? Why would you do that?” His voice began to rise.
> 
>  
> 
> “Tarren, stop! Sit down and calm yourself.” She shook off her sobs and allowed her military mind to take over; giving orders and keeping peace.
> 
>  
> 
> “No! I’m not going to stop! You decided to lie to me for fifteen years over my dead sister? No!” He began screaming.
> 
>  

Garrus rushed into the room. Hearing the commotion from the driveway, he hurried his entrance and prepared for the worst. He grabbed Tarren by the shoulder and pulled him away from Jane, who was backing up into a literal corner. Tarren continued to scream, attempting to fight free from Garrus’ grip.

 

He hit the wall with a thud. A deep, gravelly growl battled the tenor-pitch seething. Garrus locked eyes with his son. His baby, his entire world. He could see something had broken. Something had just been ripped out from his heart; the same look he faced in the mirror every morning. Tarren tore off his translator, staring at Garrus. Garrus took off his own slowly as he let go of his son. Tarren continued to seethe; and eventually let his voice rise until he was screaming again; repeating everything his mother had told him.

 

Shep looked on silently, her glass of Serrice Ice Brandy in her hand. She listened intently as Tarren raged on and Garrus quietly responded. She knew more of their language than she let on. She watched as Tarren held his head and paced. Garrus, defeated, slumped his shoulders, looking down most of the time.

 

> “Mom… I let her down. I let my sister down. I let her die, dad. I tried so hard to save mom. I don’t remember much, but I remember enough. I… I—“

 

He faced away from Garrus, leaning against the wall, shaking violently.

 

> “Son. Do you know how long I’ve thought the same thing?” He stood still. “15 years, about.”

 

Tarren slumped to the floor, muttering.

 

> “You feel like it was your job. But you know what? It was mine. I was to protect both of you.”

 

Tarren listened.

 

> “I failed my wife, my son, and my daughter.”

 

A sound such as rocks grinding together emanated from Tarren’s chest. Garrus kneeled a few feet behind his son.

 

> “It’s in your blood Tarren, I know. But understand that I am the protector of this household. You are going to the Academy so that you will be prepared to have your own woman and children to protect. Right now, forever and always, you will be my child. This failure is on me.”

 

Tarren turned to his father and laid on his chest. Garrus embraced him in a protective hold, and stroked his plumage.

 

Shepard locked eyes with her husband as his gaze rose to hers from across the room.

 

* * *

 

 

Tarren sat on the sofa, wide-eyed and shaking still. A glass of Brandy in his hands, given to him by his father. His first glass of alcohol.

 

He watched as his parents walked together to their room, halfway closing the door. He heard their voices, low and mumbling, with the occasional whimper from his mother. He took another sip. He leaned over and saw them embracing, his Garrus running his talons through his mother’s hair.

 

He stood and walked to the huge bay window. He watched the stars sparkle and returned to the recesses of his mind. Watching the memory over and over, desperately trying to piece together the broken fragments of blood and screaming.

 

The couple returned after a few moments and sat in the living area with their son. Tarren locked eyes with his mother after sitting down.

 

> “Mom, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I didn’t mean to yell. I—I’m not mad, anymore.” She reached over and held his hand, smiling in forgiveness.

 

> “Tarren, we’re sorry we lied to you. We just tried to protect you. It’s… A difficult situation. There’s no right way to handle it.” Garrus apologized.

 

> “Its okay, Dad. I know…”

 

A long moment of silence hung in the air.

 

> “We knew you loved her, Tarren. From the start.” Jane looked up to Tarren. “You held my belly when we read stories to you. You fought so hard for her. And when she died, a part of—a… part of you did, too.”

 

Garrus rubbed her shoulder, and Tarren stared off.

 

> “I’ve felt like that for a long time, Mom. And it all makes a little more sense. I do love her.”

 

> “We do too, baby.” She rubbed the top of his hand again.

 

Another long silence descended upon the family.

 

Garrus stood and retrieved the urn from the nightstand in their bedroom. He handed it to Tarren, who read the inscription, “Our Daughter Nish-Baal Forever Rests In Peace.” He held the urn close to his chest.

 

Garrus held a picture frame in his hands and swiped his Omni-tool across it. He showed it to Jane, who let out a huge smile. She looked over to Tarren in anticipation. Garrus clicked his mandibles as he handed it to Tarren.

 

There he was. She was so perfect, so beautiful. Tarren looked up at the camera as he held a hand pressed against the glass containing his sister. She was so still, but in this photo she could just have been sleeping.

 

Tarren looked up at his parents, then back to the picture. Jane stood, kissing her son’s head and retreating to the bedroom. Garrus patted his shoulder and followed her.

 

The rest of the night he spent on that couch, half a glass of Brandy in one hand and the picture in the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> XD
> 
> I have such an emotional connection to my own story, its kinda gross. I hope y'all like it as much (or more) than me!
> 
> <3


	3. Family Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus takes Tarren to his grandfather and aunt on Palaven. Emotions building and falling before the more action-y scenes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies are in order. I'm sorry it's taken six months to continue on with this, but I do have over 10 chapters at this point! Personal issues and not having internet have slowed my progress drasticly. Also, my internet connection is spotty and I will edit this chapter and the following at a later date; I know the formatting is rubbish! ;)

Tarren was quiet on the shuttle to the Port. His father drove and mother anxiously watched as ever milestone went by. Tarren was filled with excitement; nervousness. First he was meeting his grandfather and aunt for the first time in many years. Palaven was the first stage in his journey. After a few weeks at the Military school, he would transfer to the Citadel Security Academy. That is where he would finally know what it is he wanted to do in his life.

His parents were leaving the vehicle when he realized they had arrived. Garrus opened the hatch and handed Tarren his bags, as well as took his own. Shepard was nearly sobbing, and reaching her arms out to the two men of her life. She held Tarren tightly, smoothing his plumage and kissing his forehead. Garrus kissed her lovingly and ran a talon through her hair. Jane had decided against visiting her in-laws due to the health requirements of staying on Palaven. 

 

Tarren looked over at his father, driving the cruiser to the home of his grandfather. Garrus returned the gaze and smiled. Tarren looked off out the window, staring off at the forests of trees that were so different than the few on Illium. Plates formed up the trunks and thick leaves retracted as the sunlight faded away. The sky was becoming darker as the city lights became distant. Excitement rattled his core, but he tried to not let it show. To a typical human, his efforts would suffice, but Garrus could feel the little rumbles in his son’s chest.

He pulled the shuttle into the drive way of his father’s house and parked. He let out a tired sigh, which Tarren noticed immediately. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, while taking off his harness. 

Garrus thought back to all the arguments with his father. After his mother passed away, his father had turned cold. Even so, he was the best father anyone could ask for. He and his sister always had food in their bellies and a roof over their head. As Garrus left the Academy and joined C-Sec, friction began to heat the relationship. When he received the message, inviting him to begin Spectre training, was when it all fell apart. The screaming, the crying of his sister. He didn’t take it, being the obedient son that he was. But even after all they had gone through, saving the galaxy and all, his father still couldn’t get past the fact that he married a human spectre, not to mention had “relations” while under her command. 

“Nothing, son, just tired is all.” He clicked his mandibles and smiled a Turian smile. Tarren accepted, and let himself out.

They were greeted by Solana with heartfelt hugs. Garrus kissed his sister’s cheek and helped carry Tarren’s belongings into the home. His father rose from his seat in the living room slowly. He made his way into the hall as Solana was greeting Tarren. Garrus sat the bags down and turned to face his father. For a moment he stood, almost afraid of the old man. He reached his arms out and laughed, taking Garrus close. 

“Hey, dad.” He coughed a little when released from the embrace.

Tarren approached, his aunt’s hand on his shoulder. His grandfather looked down at him. Tarren, intimidated, took a step back. 

“Well, Tarren? Too big to give Gramps some love?” Tarren gingerly approached and hugged him. He returned to Garrus, taking him by the arm and leading him to the kitchen. Solana took Tarren through the house and showed him the small guest room where he would be staying for the next few months. He moved his belongings from the hall to the bedroom, setting them against the wall near the bed. He looked out the window at the bright stars in the sky, beginning to feel a little homesick.

The bedroom was very close to the kitchen; Tarren began to hear the conversation taking place between the three adults.

~~~  
“Garrus, it’s been so long.” Solana hugged her big brother.

“I know, Sol.”

Their father poured glasses of whiskey for them and sat at the table.

“So, Garrus. How has my son been? What have you and the wife been up to the last few years?”

Garrus shifted uncomfortably. “Raising Tarren. I’ve been working, and Jane has been going through some—things and decided to retire.”

Solana glanced nervously at Garrus, wanting to ask.

“What have you been doing, dad?”

He took another drink. “Well, you know. Still working. Hoping Solana doesn’t marry herself off and leave me with an empty nest. How’s Tarren been?”

“Good.” Garrus answered shortly. He clacked his mandibles in frustration. Solana let a soothing rumble escape her chest quietly.

“Yeah?” Garrus stared intently, nodding.

“Why haven’t you found out for yourself, dad?”

He sighed, shifting in the chair. “You know the answer to that, Garrus.”

“I don’t. I know we’ve had our differences, but my family has gone through quite a lot the last few years, and it would have been helpful to have you two around.”

“Well, son, you’ve never informed me of these, so-called ‘problems.’ I’m not your mother; I don’t just know what’s happening at all times if no one tells me. And you know I have loads of work here, I can’t just drop everything and leave whenever I want.”

Garrus couldn’t help the angry rumble in his core. “You know, it’s always been about the work, dad. Always something more important than us. Maybe we just would have liked you to come visit for an afternoon or weekend. Something, dad. I barely hear from you.”

“You know how I feel about Jane. Everything you two did. I love Tarren, but he is a byproduct of—“

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t give a fuck what you think about my wife.” He growled as he stood. “That is my son. Your grandchild. And his mother saved not only our asses, but the entire galaxy and future life itself. She deserves a little respect.”

“Sit down, son.” He chuckled as Garrus complied. “I have all the respect in the world for Commander Shepard. I don’t like how everything happened, but, in this case, the ends justify the means. I love Tarren with all my heart, I just haven’t been able to visit as much as you would like.”

“Once in 15 years…” Garrus shot hot breath through his nostrils.

“What is so important that I’ve missed, Garrus?”

Fire burned in his chest, aching to burst free. He stood, throwing the glass to the floor, and snarled inches away from his father’s face. Solana stood, ready to tear Garrus away, as she had so many times in the past. He whispered through his rumbling growls,

“You missed the death of you granddaughter.” The shock on his father’s face melted the mask of pride he wore just seconds ago. Garrus glared with such an intensity that he could see his father’s heart break. He shoved the table and stormed out of the kitchen.

Garrus entered the bedroom, kneeling to his son.

“Tarren, I am giving you the choice. Do you wish to stay here? The Academy is a week away yet, and there is no reason you can’t come back home until you need to go. I would completely understand.”

Tarren went over the dialogue he had secretly gathered. He couldn’t completely understand it all, but he felt uncomfortable. 

“Dad, you took me off-world. I can’t let that be for nothing. I’m—I’m not scared to stay by myself. I like Aunt Solana. I don’t really know Grampa.”

Garrus sighed, patting him. “Okay.” He rested his crest on his son’s and kissed his forehead.

“I love you, Tarren. Call Mom often, okay? Let us know how you’re doing and when we can come see you.”

“Alright, Dad, will do. I love you too.” He watched Garrus leave the room and felt cold. Alone. He missed his mother already. Man, was this going to be rough.

Garrus bumped into Solana on his way out the door. She held on to him, asking him to stay just a bit longer to talk to her.

“Garrus, I haven’t seen you in years. Please, I miss you, brother.” He could feel her beginning to shake. He led her outside.

“Solana, so much has happened, and neither of you have been with us. It’s just… heartbreaking.”

“Garrus,” She took his hand, “I’m so sorry. You know how Father is. Since Mom, he hasn’t… well, I mean, he hasn’t ever let me do much. I know he loves us, he just…”

Garrus sighed, looking up at the sky and squeezing her hands. “Solana, I’ve been telling you for years. You need to leave him. He’s an adult, he can live on his own.”

“I know, but… he’s all I have, and I’m all he has.” Her eyes pleaded for understanding.

Garrus drew her in closely. She shook violently for a moment. She calmed herself and looked at him.

“Garrus, I—I’ve spoken too much about us. I—I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for—for—“She lost her composure. Garrus spoke softly and let his sub-vocals soothe. He explained briefly of Nishba’al and the circumstances of her conception. He consoled while she mourned her niece, and apologized again for her absence. He also explained of his own time on Omega and vigilante group; something he never spoke of to his father.

Solana promised her involvement in Tarren’s life, as well as his. She was beginning her farewells as their father came to meet them. Shaking violently, their father took Garrus’ hand and looked up at him with love, asking for forgiveness.

“Garrus, I am truly sorry. I will take care of Tarren, and hope that will be enough to show that to you.”

Garrus looked pitifully at his father, accepting his offer with an embrace.

Tarren watched the reunion from the hall window. Not quite knowing what this was all about, he hid it away in the back of his mind.


	4. Azuren Strikes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter. Don't lose interest yet; more is coming! :)

Over the next week, Tarren became familiar with his grandfather and aunt. From sunrise until after sunset, his grandfather was at work; however his aunt was home during most of the day. She packed lunches for them and took her nephew exploring in his home world. After exploring the city, she took him high up into the mountains and deep into the forests to observe the wildlife. They sat by the lake near the house and watched the sunset over the hills until they could catch the fireflies.

One evening she took his hand in hers.

“Tarren,” She began softly, “I want to tell you I am sorry for not being around while you were growing up. I’m glad that, even though you’re well grown, I could still make a bond with you.” She smiled at him.

“It’s alright, Auntie. Things have been hard, I can tell.” He let a moment of silence come down as they watched a hawk with silvery plated wings descend into the golden field before them. They caught a jar of fireflies before returning to the house.

When they arrived, Gramps was drinking a glass of whiskey and had a hand on his forehead. Solana went to him nervously. He looked at Tarren then to Solana, conveying that Tarren should leave the room. No one had to ask him.

“Solana, it’s bad.” He sat her at the table, talking in a low voice.

“What, Dad? What’s the matter?” She held his hand.

“I can’t say much. I tried my best, I did everything I could to prevent it, but I had to do it. I had no choice.”

“Dad, c’mon.” Tarren eavesdropped anxiously from his bedroom.

“War, Solana. War. Right here on Palaven.”

She leaned back in her chair. “What do we do? How bad is this? Does the public know?”

“They attacked, a terrorist group, took a shuttle in on the mountains and attacked Cipritine. Riots are engulfing the 7th Ward in flames and looting is out of control in the 5th and 8th. We couldn’t keep it under control, even with Military Police.”

“Who? Who did this?” She was shaking. Tarren held his hands up to his face.

“Azuren. They’re much stronger than they were on Omega just a few years ago. They’ve been recruiting for years and now we don’t know how much influence or numbers they have. They’re ripping Cipritine to shreds! I don’t know what to do Solana. I would usually feel safer with you on Palaven, but… Now I don’t know.”

“Spirits…” She poured herself a glass of whiskey. “What about Tarren? He’s due at the academy in two days.”

He sighed, sitting at the table. “Let me call Garrus.”

Tarren sat shaking on the edge of his bed. Fear, anger, excitement. As much as it pained him to see what combat did to his parents, he couldn’t help but lust after his first fight. He wondered how his parent’s would handle this.

His grandfather sat at the table speaking to Garrus, informing him of the current situation on Palaven. Garrus took a moment to discuss with Jane, and decided they needed to speak to their son, and that they would both arrive early the next morning.

Tarren listened to his aunt and grandfather mumble quietly into the morning, and pretended to sleep when they whispered ‘good night’ on their way down the hall. Tarren stared into the dark and listened, waiting to hear women screaming and explosions off in the distance. Silence.  
That morning at day break, Tarren greeted his parents at the door. Jane took off the helmet to her envirosuit to kiss her son and hold him closely. They sat at the kitchen table with Solana while Gramps left for work.

“I would really like to be here for this conversation.” He mentioned as he grabbed his briefcase from the floor.

“You will be here tonight, Dad. We can have our own conversations then.” Garrus hugged him as he walked out the door. Garrus took a seat at the table with Jane, Tarren, and Solana. Solana began to excuse herself, but Garrus stopped her; she took her seat again.

“Tarren,” Garrus began, “There is war on our home planet. Terrible people are doing awful things, and we don’t know how bad this might get. Innocent people are dying by the hundreds so far. Our country needs help. This decision is totally up to you: do you want to fight, or stay?”

Tarren looked at his parents. His mother’s face was pale with dark circles; it seemed as though her wrinkles had come in overnight. His father was cold, stern face set on him. He already knew his decision.

“I have to go.” He sat up straight and proud, trying his best to deflect his feelings of apprehension and dread. Jane sighed and Garrus nodded.

“I understand, son.” Jane held her hand out to him. 

Garrus stood, shaking his son’s hand. “I’m proud. I’m very, very proud, son.” An enormous smile on both he and his son’s face.   
That evening, after his grandfather had returned late, Tarren lay in bed. Solana and his parents were engaging in conversation over coffee. He felt a nervous energy fall after he heard the door shut. The conversation became low murmurs for several minutes. Until the sudden squeak of kitchen chairs, loud steps and the slamming door jarred him from his quasi-consciousness.

Solana led Jane down the hallway a bit past Tarren’s room.

“Don’t listen to that old fart; he doesn’t know what he’s saying. Everybody is stressed, Sister.”

“I respect him. I respect his position in government, as well as in my family. But he has no need to express that kind of rudeness and hate toward me from nothing. I’m sorry, it may not be official, but I am his superior, and if nothing else, he should respect me on that level. Not to mention giving birth to his grandson.” Tarren could hear the hatred boiling within his mother, and bubbling out through her voice.

He peeked through the open doorway and saw them standing together, Solana quite a bit taller than his mother. Solana ran her hands through her hair in an attempt to calm her. Jane wiped her face and sighed.

Garrus stood tall in front of his father, a deep gravelly growl emanating from his chest.

“My son is in the other room; this is not the time for this.”

“She needs to know where I stand.”

“She is giving her only son away to war; you need to be at the very least passive.”

“She is in my home I—“

“She is your daughter-in-law! Like it or not, it’s been almost twenty years for Spirit’s sake, Dad!”

He stood coldly, clacking his old mandibles at his son.

“You’re going to have to get over it. I’m not going to stop her retaliation the next time you say something fucking dumb.” Garrus turned and let himself inside. Solana and Jane were sipping on coffee and turned to his presence. He kissed her forehead and leaned into her ear, “I think we should leave soon, love.”

She looked up at him. “I want to see Tarren off.” He gave her a look. She sighed.

Jane set down her cup as Solana and Garrus hugged. She walked quietly down the hall to Tarren’s room and let herself in. She sat on the edge of his bed and laid her hand on his forehead. He reached up and held her hand in his. He sat up and kissed it. She smiled, even though he couldn’t see in the dark. He started to hum a familiar song to her, about golden fishes and beautiful lands. She took him in close and smoothed his plumage.

“You know I love you, son.”

“Of course, Mom. I love you, too.”

“Your father and I are going to take off now; I hope that’s okay with you.”

“Yes’m.”

She sighed deeply. “I love you, Tarren.”

“Mom, you already said that.” Tarren chuckled.

“I want you to write every week. I’ll send you some Carmas, the ones with extra drizzle and crunchy gooey insides.” She held him tightly.

“Of course, Mama.”

“I am proud of you, baby. But you stay safe. I want you on a shuttle the first chance you can to visit. You understand?” She had started to tear up now.

“Yes, Mama, I will. I will.” He hugged her back, just as tight.

As she got up, Garrus came in to say his goodbye’s as well. He hugged his son and kissed his forehead.

“We love you Tarren. Be safe, write often. Come home to visit us soon, okay?” 

“Yes, Daddy.”

The parents left the room, mumbled goodbyes to Gramps and Solana, and left in their shuttle.

Tomorrow morning, Tarren would be off.


	5. Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tarren begins his military career serving his home planet.

Tarren arrived at the Academy late the next evening after a long shuttle ride out into the country. Past the forests and streams of clear water, they came upon a grove surrounded by mountain ranges. A huge expanse of bunkers, cement pads and barbed wire fencing. As the shuttle hatch opened, he and his Turian counterparts were blown away by the intense heat and humidity. Outside, other males Tarren’s age were running about with weapons strapped to their uniforms and loaded themselves onto shuttles. Immediately, a tall man who looked as if he could break Tarren in half began screaming at the group of boys. He followed the group as they marched into the first bunker.

 

In a single file line, they received a bundle with their last name stamped on the front. This contained their clothing and uniforms, as well as dog tags and basic survival equipment. They were then split up into groups and led to their barracks.

 

Tarren shared a bunk with a Turian named Jakmil, a tough looking native of Palaven. He stayed in his bunk, unpacking his belongings until the drill instructor returned. He had become calm now, allowing his act to fade, yet remaining stern. He directed them to the restrooms, showers, and armory, as well as shooting ranges and training centers. He handed each recruit a datapad of information specific to their training and eventual assignment. They were allowed to return to their bunks and rest for the night until the 0300 wake-up call.

 

The first part of training consisted of physical conditioning. For four weeks they would strengthen their bodies for combat. After this month, they would begin their weapons training which would last four weeks as well. After this segment, they would attend classes on morality in battle, first aid, combat strategies, as well as continue working on weapons training and physical conditioning.

 

That night, Tarren lay awake, tense. He couldn’t get the image of the uniformed soldiers that were only months older than he was, running to combat already. Dread took his stomach in its claws and he fought back nausea. He shook his head. He remembered reading in his history texts about the Great Commander Shepard. How she had overcome the attack on her colony, the tragedy of Akuze, and the innumerable obstacles of her military career. He had to come through on this.

 

Over the next few weeks he became good friends with Jakmil, and hoped to stay together through their assignments. After the first month, Tarren became tough and strong, his plates thicker and muscles stronger. He could run for miles and lift over a hundred pounds. While in weapons training, he favored melee combat, however he shared his favorite weapon with Jakmil: assault rifles. He became obsessed with his own, taking it apart, cleaning, and putting it back together at least once per night before bed. Their classes came with the next month, and he excelled in every subject.

 

The day of the assignment ceremony, Tarren took care of his daily routine and returned to his bunk. He put on his combat uniform: blue and black with ‘VAKARIAN’ stamped in white letters across his back and on his breast pocket. He put on his combat boots and hat and followed Jakmil to the large auditorium where his class would be.

 

After the long hours of speeches and congratulating of his comrades, his name was finally called and he walked down to the stage.

 

The lead commander towered above him, smiling benevolently. He handed Tarren a folder of patches and papers. “Tarren Vakarian, you have shown a great display of excellence in your training thus far. So well, even, that you are allowed a choice in your assignment. You may take Infantry Battalion 784, stationed on Palaven, or you may take our recommendation for Special Operations. You can take some time to decide; someone will contact you tomorrow before departure. Thank you, and congratulations, Tarren.” He shook Tarren’s hand, who was frozen in a state of shock. He was so giddy he could have skipped up the rows back to his seat, but kept himself under control while being showered in applause. He sat next to Jakmil, who looked sullen.

 

> “Jak, what’s wrong? Aren’t you exited? We both got picked for IB 784!”
> 
>  
> 
> “Yeah, but you know that’s not where you’re going to end up.” Jak refused to look at Tarren.
> 
>  
> 
> “Jak… I…” Tarren trailed off. The weight of the decision fell on him and he wasn’t sure what he should do. Just moments ago, he thought he had everything sorted out.
> 
>  

After the ceremony, Jak left the auditorium by himself and refused to look at Tarren once he settled in for bed. Tarren took out his Omni-tool and went outside. He called the only people he knew could help him in this.

 

> “Tarren! Garrus, come quick! It’s Tarren!” Jane squealed as she opened her Omni-tool. Garrus sat next to his wife and exchanged greetings with their son.
> 
>  
> 
> “So, how’s it going? Keeping out of trouble, yeah?” Garrus clicked his mandibles.
> 
>  
> 
> “Great! Everything is fantastic; we just had our assignment ceremony. I was picked for Infantry 784 or Special Forces.”

 

Both parents were quiet.

 

> “That’s great, son! It takes a lot to be offered Special Forces. What have you decided?” Jane spoke softly; proud, but nervous.
> 
>  
> 
> “I don’t know. What do you guys think? If I go with Infantry, I’m immediately going to be shipped out to Cipritine, but I will be able to come home in a year. I don’t know what will happen if I go into Special Forces. I don’t even know what that means really, they didn’t talk to us about it in class too much. I was sure I’d be sent to the C-Sec Academy, but with Cipritine, nobody’s going to anything less than Infantry.”
> 
>  
> 
> “That’s because your instructors don’t know much more than you do.” Garrus clicked his mandibles. “Son, it’s all up to you. You don’t have to decide right now. You can take Infantry for now and take some special tests to qualify for Special again. But it’s up to you, do what you feel is right.” Garrus smiled at him.
> 
>  
> 
> “Of course, Dad, Thanks.”
> 
>  
> 
> He smiled and carried on conversation a few more moments before ending the call. He stepped back inside and climbed up to his bunk where he stared at the ceiling for several minutes. He hadn’t received the clear cut answer from his parents that he was hoping for, yet he realized that it was a major step he needed to make on his own. He looked over to his friend Jak and knew what he needed to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys! I've had this finished for a while now and haven't had a chance to upload. Very sorry! Also, I will continue editing after I upload these chapters. I do not have the opportunity to do as much as I would like at the moment, but I really want to get these out there and see what you think! <3


	6. Departure

> “Infantry Battalion 784, board immediately.” A woman’s calm voice came over the speakers of the barracks where Tarren was waiting anxiously. He had all his gear packed and strapped onto his back, and made his way through the crowd of his comrades. He caught up to Jak and walked beside him.
> 
>  
> 
> “What are you doing, Tarren?” Jak’s confusion was replaced with a comforted smile as he realized his friend would be by his side.

 

As they boarded the shuttle, Tarren stole a quick glance of new recruits coming off another shuttle in plain-clothes, already being screamed at by his drill instructor. He smiled as he climbed aboard behind Jak.

 

The seats were small and the small shuttle crowded over a hundred of their 1,000 man battalion together. The other 7 shuttles were to take off shortly, and the 9th had taken off first. Jak and Tarren sat squished uncomfortably together, in between their comrades. The air held a heavy energy; a fear and anxious scent filled their nostrils. Tarren wasn’t nervous in the slightest; he turned his anxiety into excitement, and was nearly shaking with anticipation. It would be a day or so before he would be sent into combat, but this was step one.

 

About an hour into the ride, the silence of the shuttle turned to a low hum of chatter. Jak was clicking his mandibles loudly, looking around at the familiar faces in an effort to find some comfort. He turned to Tarren,

 

> “Tarren, I’ve been meaning to ask.”
> 
>  
> 
> “What’s up?” He tried to angle his body to speak more comfortably with his friend.
> 
>  
> 
> “Vakarian? That’s your real last name?”
> 
>  
> 
> Tarren laughed, “Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”
> 
>  
> 
> “So, the rumors are true then? You’re Garrus Vakarian and Jane Shepard’s son?”
> 
>  
> 
> Tarren was a bit nervous on the spot. “Yes… why is this a shock? Or a rumor? Why haven’t people simply asked? Is that the reason I’ve been getting looks for the last three months?”
> 
>  
> 
> Jak chuckled. “Yeah, I guess so. I mean, it’s no surprise that you were offered Special, given your family.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Jak. Really? Don’t be a prick…” Tarren was slightly offended.
> 
>  
> 
> “Hey, I’m just telling it how I see it is all. Be chill.” An awkward silence descended upon the pair, as well as their eavesdroppers for a few moments. “So, I mean, your parent’s being decorated veterans and saviors of the galaxy and all, do you think you’ll handle this better than us? I mean, people that have never been trained in combat.”

 

> Tarren sighed. “You know, it’s really a delicate subject, we never really talked about it. I am your equal, Jak.” Jak nodded in agreement.
> 
>  
> 
> “Hey Tarren, I meant t—“

 

Suddenly the shuttle started a rapid descent, hitting the ground hard. Their pilot and leader opened the hatch and led them outside. Their leader, Sargent Varill led his company to the nearby tree line. As they turned around, they saw smoke rising from the ground and one of their Battalion’s shuttles go down. The others began making emergency landings as well, and Sargent Varill began to link their Omni-tools together.

 

> “Alright team, we didn’t expect this, and I know what you just saw was horrible. But you’re soldiers a few days early. For now, we’re going to back-track to the last shuttle and meet with them there; it should be about a two mile hike. I want weapons drawn, ready to fire, and keep an eye out. Cipritine is about 3 miles north of where you saw the shuttle go down. I don’t have coms up besides our Omni-tools, so as far as we know there could be an enemy camp half a mile into our path. Remember your training, and follow orders. Move.”

 

Tarren listened to Varill intensely. A young sergeant couldn’t have been more than 25. His silver eyes scanned their pack and demanded respect, but you knew your trust was well placed. He directed half of the men to stay behind with the pilot and shuttle while the rest went along on the hike. He led Tarren and the rest of the company through the swampy woods in an uneventful hike to the shuttle behind them.

 

Word was to send all able bodied men to the streets of Cipritine to help control the riots. There was a planned ambush on the Azuren stronghold this afternoon, and they wanted as many civilians out of the line of fire as possible. Special Forces were to be taking over the assault, while Infantry Battalions 635-798 would be assisting in riot control. Varill led the team back the way they have come through the forest to their shuttle.

 

Upon arrival, blood was the first thing the Sargent noticed. The bodies of all the young men left behind, as well as the pilot, lay strewn about the shuttle and outside, as well as a few Azuren assailants. Tarren felt sick as he looked at the carnage. Jak vomited in the nearby bushes, as well as another comrade. Varill told them to suck it up; it only gets worse from here.

 

The young Sargent led the men back down the same path to the other shuttle to inform them of the killings. The shuttle was under attack as well, however, they were holding their own against the handful of opponents. The company took cover behind brush and assisted their Battalion in fending off the Azuren. Tarren looked through his scope and caught a youthful Batarian woman in his sights. He squeezed the trigger quickly and killed. He systematically did this until the threat was annihilated. The calmness in his bones was concerning, but he knew he had no time to worry about that now.

 

The rest of the Battalion loaded up into the shuttle and returned to the academy. Varill took Tarren and a few other men to assist in retrieving the rest of the Battalion, and succeeded in minor additional casualties.

 

Varill called to meet with his team that evening after returning everyone safely.

 

> “Men, you did well today. That was your first taste of combat, and hopefully you will live to see more of it. You all should feel a fire burning in your bones, a deep anger and hatred for these people that have killed your brothers-in-arms. You must take that fire, and use it against them. Don’t bottle it up; don’t take it out on your families. You take that hate, and use it on them. Our citizens are dying in the streets because of these terrorists. You will be the ones to save them. Now…” He took a pause and rubbed his eyes.
> 
> “I know what you saw today was difficult. I know. But eat, get some sleep, and be ready to go by 0700 tomorrow. We will set out again and begin our part of Operation Talon at noon. Good job, men.”

 

Tarren crawled into his bunk that night without a word to Jak or anyone else. The bunker was eerily quiet that night; too many men missing from their beds. Tarren couldn’t get that Batarian out of his head. What was sticking to him so strongly? Yes, he killed, but she wasn’t the first or last. What was the issue?

Liara T’soni came to the door that night, several data pads in her hands and tear streaked, dark circled eyes. Garrus sleepily answered the door, just being roused from bed.

 

> “Liara? What is it? It’s too early for this…”
> 
>  
> 
> “Garrus,” He could feel the urgency in her voice, “I need to speak to you and Jane. Now.” Garrus immediately let her in, turned on some lights, and woke Jane.

 

Liara began to spread out her data pads on the coffee table and several sheets of paper. She began to furiously go through one of them as they gathered in front of her in their living room.

 

> “Liara, what is the meaning of this? Tell us what’s wrong.”

 

Liara looked up with sorrowful, rage filled eyes. She spoke nothing, but handed them a data pad that played a several minuet video.

 

A Batarian, dressed in a black, formal suit came on screen and sat in front of the camera in an oversized chair. He had a large scar across his face, leaving him with only 3 eyes on his left side. He began with a demonic chuckle. “Hello, creatures. You are now familiar with my little organization, I see. Fifteen years ago you paid us no mind, but now, we are the center of your world.” He smiled. “You know us now as the leaders of Cipritine, Palaven; we’ve created mass chaos and anarchy, but not to worry; we will lead our people to righteousness when the time is fit. Are you familiar with our group yet, Admiral? Last time we were around, we reared our heads for a little mischief, a little crime with poor planning and a then incompetent leader. Remember Commander Shepard? Yes, we caused a little turmoil in that ugly bitch’s life. Now, we are on to much bigger and better things. Don’t get me wrong… I will end that sorry little slut’s life when I get the chance. But, that is not my focus for the moment. Let me continue on with our plan for you, Admiral—“Liara shut off the video, looking sadly at Jane.

 

She stood quietly and walked to the large bay window. Garrus sat staring into his hands and Liara let streams of tears run down her face.

 

> “That’s him. I knew it was him the moment I saw his face.”
> 
>  
> 
> Garrus stood and went to her. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry it took me this long to find him. I’ve been searching this whole time for the group, if there was one, and I never thought I would find… him.” Liara wiped her face.

 

> “It’s not fault of yours, Liara. It’s just… impossible. I shot him in the face after I got my arms free. He was still on top of me but—“She cupped her hands around her face and Garrus let her lean against him.
> 
>  
> 
> “He’s missing half his face. I don’t know how he survived but… I mean, you survived death, Jane.”
> 
>  

Shep nodded, sighing, and hugged Liara, whispering thanks to her. Liara stayed a bit longer until the three were able to have a semi-light conversation, and took her leave. Garrus held Jane in the doorway for several moments. She finally broke the embrace and looked up to Garrus.

 

> “I told Tarren the men were killed. The ones that attacked me. I didn’t mean to lie to him, I—I didn’t know myself. I don’t want to keep this from him but—“Garrus smoothed her hair and hushed her.
> 
>  
> 
> “Let’s get some sleep. We’ll see how things work out when he comes home for a while.”  
> 


	7. A Little R&R

Tarren shoved his oxygen mask on the woman’s face as he led her out of the burning building. She cried, thanking him profusely. He and Jak went to the next home and repeated the process until they had evacuated all the civilians they could find. At this time, it was late in the night and Operation Talon had just gotten underway. Most of the rioting was under control by now, and the fire squad had been putting out fires for days. Battalion 784 stood watch outside the stronghold and waited for their enemy to run into their line of fire.

 

Eventually, Special Forces took care of the stronghold and minimal casualties inflicted by Tarren’s Battalion ensued. That evening, the company returned to their new station on the outskirts of Cipritine. The men were served dinner then returned to their cots for bed; most stayed up through the night drinking alcohol and living off the adrenaline high.

 

Jak and Tarren played cards between their cots on an old crate while their company hooted and hollered all around them. One man, Fereghil, became especially rowdy.

 

> “Tarren, come over here!” He shouted from the short distance across the small barracks.
> 
>  
> 
> “Fuck off, Fer.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Vakarian, I said, comeere!” Tarren flashed him a look, and Fereghil took a step back for a moment. A low hum of whispers came from the group a moment later before they burst out laughing.
> 
>  
> 
> “Vakarian! Hey! Guess whud I jus heard? Your mother was such a skank, that she fucked a batarian, of all the bloody races, your moth—“ Tarren had the boy in a chokehold against the wall with his pocket knife against his throat. The company was silent except for Fereghil’s whimpers.

 

> “My mother saved your ass, you piece of shit.” Tarren pressed the knife into his throat ever so slightly.
> 
>  
> 
> “C’mon man, I’m sorry, it was a joke, a joke, I don’t even know your mom.” Ferenghril lied, terribly.
> 
>  
> 
> “C’mon, Tare, it’s alright. Don’t kill him, bud.” Jak began to advance on Tarren, speaking with caution.
> 
>  
> 
> “Think about it for a minute. I’m a Vakarian, yes?” Tarren whispered as he continued to let out a low growl. The realization hit Fereghil’s drunken mind like a freight train.
> 
>  
> 
> “Oh man, I didn’t mean it; I was just being a stupid shit. I’m sorry; I owe Commander Shepard my life, we all does, right guys?” He laughed nervously in the silence of the room.
> 
>  

Tarren slowly took the knife from his throat as Jak put a hand on his shoulder. He let Fereghil slump to the floor, gave him a swift kick in the stomach, and returned to his and Jak’s card game while Fereghil shook on the floor and the company looked on in awe.

 

> “Tarren, you can’t do that. Not that I disagree with you, but, I mean, c’mon man, that’s rough.” Jak whispered hoarsely when the room began to buzz with conversation again. Tarren shot him a look and he decided to drop the subject.

 

After the conversations died off and Jak was falling asleep, Tarren took rest in his own cot. He stared up into the lowly lit ceiling for a while until he tried to shut his eyes. Flashes of the dead raced before his eyes. He snapped them open and caught his breath, which had begun to come in gasps. He steadied himself and tried to shut his eyes again. The same scenarios took place, so he decided to roll over and keep his eyes peeled for the rest of the night.


	8. Assault

For the next several weeks, Tarren served in attempting to bring peace to the city of Cipritine. Mostly in vain, however, he saved many civilian lives and ended many of the enemy’s. He was exhausted most of the time; traumatizing memories stealing his sleep. He carried on, and excelled in combat.

 

By now, the once mysterious group of Azuren was well known and feared across the galaxy. The continuing forces dropped in unmarked, outdated ships began to decrease, and the Palaven military came to expect an upcoming victory. Tarren was due for leave, and as it was, he was likely to be approved. He recently contacted his parent’s to tell them of the good news; however he only reached his mother. His father was sent off to another office, Shepard told him with tired eyes. She was delighted with news of his arrival, but could sense there were many thoughts and apprehensions behind her bright exterior.

 

He left base early on a crisp morning, and traveled by public shuttle to his grandfather and aunt’s house. His grandfather was off on business, like usual, but his aunt welcomed him with open arms. She contacted Garrus and notified him of his son’s arrival. He sent word that he would be there within a few days to take him home to Illium. Tarren found peace outside his barracks, and hoped a warm bed would bring him rest, unlike his cold military issue cot.

 

The evening of his arrival, he took a walk with his aunt, with whom he had developed a warm relationship with since their meeting. They walked hand in hand along the banks of the river to a warm sunny meadow a few miles away from the house. They sat together and he gave her truthful, yet guarded stories of his time so far serving Palaven. She seemed enthralled by his stories, but she had been exposed enough to military minds to see the pain he was hiding underneath. Something had changed in him; over the short time she had known her nephew. She put a comforting hand on his shoulder and smiled knowingly. He accepted the gesture for what it was, but a cold wall kept his emotions and terror inside, not wanting to share the pain with someone he loved. They spent the rest of the evening walking back to the home and settled in for the night.

 

Tarren rubbed his aching shoulders and back. He had become much stronger over the last several months than he had been when he started, but the physical labor caught up with him after the adrenaline rushes. He felt older than 15-going-on-16. He thought back to the conversation he had with his parent’s before deciding to join. He sighed, and then lowered himself into the small, warm bed. The darkness was soft and comforting for a moment, and he relished the peace he felt in the quiet room. The only smells he could detect were left-over cooking aromas from the kitchen, wafting around the house in small breezes and drafts. He pulled the blankets up to his throat and shut his eyes. The usual flash of gore. He opened them and tried again. A few seconds of calm, then another flash. He sighed, opening his eyes once more. He looked around at the darkness as he calmed his now racing heart. He went through the normal thoughts: “Calm down, it’s over now. You did everything you could and everything you had to do. Everything is exactly as it should be.” The thoughts always seemed superficial and meaningless at first, but as he repeated them several dozen times, his eyelids felt heavy and settled together peacefully.

 

 

The next morning, Garrus was having a cup of coffee with his sister. Tarren was sleeping soundly, as told by his grinding snores from behind the closed door.

 

> “Solana, how is my son?”

 

She took a sip of coffee, sighed, then set it down on the table in front of her. She told Garrus more with her look than with the words that followed from her mouth.

 

> “He’s… seen a lot. More than you hoped he would. He’s definitely changed. He’s not a boy anymore, brother.”

 

Garrus took a breath and a slug of coffee. The pure exhaustion in his face was enough to make anyone tired simply by looking at him.

 

> “I knew it wouldn’t be easy, what with the riots and such.” He knew it was much more than just the riots, and that he would soon be dumping much more heartbreak on him than he could probably handle.

 

> “It’s bad, Garrus. You’ll have to—Tarren! Good morning, kid. Sleep well I take it?”

 

Tarren entered the room yawning. He smiled at the sight of Garrus. He stood and embraced his son, then fixed a cup of coffee for both of them.

 

> “I did. Best sleep I’ve gotten in months, I’ll tell you.” He smiled, putting a hand on his aunt’s shoulder. He sat at the table and yawned again.

 

> “So, young man, how has the military life been treating you? You don’t look as rough as I thought you might.” A well told lie, sprinkled with good intentions.

 

“Yeah, it hasn’t been too bad. I’m still alive.” A semi-passive-aggressive lie to counter. Why was he angry with his dad? His emotions were confusing him; he really was glad to see his father.

 

Garrus cleared his throat, taking the hint. “Do you have everything packed? I’m ready to go home when you are.”

 

Tarren nodded, took another sip of coffee, and returned to his room to fetch his belongings. Solana and Garrus flashed each other a knowing look as Tarren left the room. Upon his return, goodbyes were exchanged, and promises to return soon were made.

 

In the shuttle, Tarren felt dwarfed and angsty next to his father. He saw no reason to direct his anger and negative emotions toward his father, and did his very best to keep them in check without coming off as cold or aloof. Garrus sensed the wrongness of the situation, and decided to attack it head on.

 

> “Son, I know you’ve killed people.” Tarren had a red hot ball of lead sink deep into his stomach. “I know what you’ve had to do, and I’m very sorry. You’ve lost good men, and you’ve lost a lot of civilian lives as well. But you are doing a great job; you have shown talent in your service, and have become quite a young man.”

 

Tarren was at a loss for words. He opened his mouth to speak, but could only take and give silent air. How did he know? Was he that high in rank to be privileged to his files? Of course he was, stupid. Not only did he help save the galaxy, I am his son and his father is head honcho at—

 

> “Your mother and I have news. I’ll be honest, it isn’t good, son.” Garrus interrupted his thoughts. “It’s difficult, and we understand the hardships of what you’re already going through.” Garrus cleared his throat again. “Just remember that we love you, Tarren. Through everything, we always have, and nothing will ever change it.” Garrus flared his mandibles.
> 
>  
> 
> “Okay, dad.” Was the only quiet response he could utter.

Shepard greeted her son with open arms. He couldn’t hold back the genuine smile that grew across his face when presented with his mother’s joy. He hummed sweetly to her and held her for several moments. He took his belongings from the car as his father and mother reunited as well, setting his suitcase just inside his bedroom door. Apparently his father had been out longer than he once assumed; several months instead of weeks.

 

His mother had created a divine meal of dextrose foods for the two men she loved most in the world. After the supper and light small-talk, the family sat in the living area for discussion. The weight of the matter weighed heavily on all of their minds, more-so on the parents. Garrus poured glasses of brandy for the three of them, and stalked the bay window of the room, looking out at Illium’s bright lights. Shepard sat next to her son, holding his hand and bracing herself for the next several moments to come.

 

Tarren cleared his throat and began the conversation.

 

> “So, what is, uh, the big news?” He looked nervously from one to the other. His father refused to turn to his gaze, and his mother stared coldly ahead for a few moments before turning her eyes to him.
> 
>  
> 
> “Son, this has to do with Nishba’al.” He almost whispered. Tarren’s skin pricked on his neck.
> 
>  
> 
> “What do you m-mean?” He had begun to shake. Possibilities rushed into his mind but none made sense, given the existing information in his head.
> 
>  
> 
> “I know I told you that the group that assaulted me had been killed. To my knowledge this had been true. However, your father and I have recently been informed that one had survived my defense.” She paused, refusing to look at the exasperated despair on her son’s face. “The one that got away was her father.”

 

Tarren’s blood ran cold, almost stopping in his veins. He held a hand to his heart, the other clenching his mother’s hand. Despair didn’t even come close to the level of depression he felt.

 

> “Well, is he locked up then? Is it one of those Omega prisons that sell their inmates? I have a little cash, and I would just love to—“
> 
>  
> 
> “Son, he’s the founder of Azuren, the group that’s been assaulting Palaven.” His father said sternly from the window, still refusing to turn.
> 
>  

Tarren stood abruptly, pacing the room, a fever overtaking his body. He felt out of control, rage beyond measures was boiling inside him, steam rupturing his skin and pouring out of his body. Vomit caught in his chest and boiled. His heart was thumping wildly, and his skin crawling over his bones. Muscles were tight, but he had no use for them. A sound akin to grinding gravel grated in his chest.

 

> “That fuck killed innocent woman and children, good men of my battalion… not only did he attack my mother, but violated her as well. I can’t sleep at night because of the things he’s done to fuck me up, I can’t talk like I used to, I don’t feel anything but angry anymore. I’m all fucked up and that piece of shit is still alive and well. God damn, isn’t Palaven enough to kill one gruesome shithead? Haven’t I been doing enough? I have given this everything I got, and it’s never going to be enough, is it? He’ll live forever, and there’s nothing I can fuckin’ do.”

 

Garrus finally turned to him, sipping his whiskey. Shepard faced away from him, tears rolling down her cheeks. She sighed a quivering breath. He looked on calmly at his son, forcing into his mind a message he knew he could understand: “Your mother is devastated, as am I. I understand your pain, but you need to be a man and be strong; we can be angry later, so block it out and comfort your mother.”

 

Tarren stopped in his tracks, letting out a deep sigh. He allowed his walls to come up over these new emotions and kneeled in front of his mother. She took in her new son through teary eyes; he was strong now; physically, emotionally, mentally. He had been gone for less than a year, but she could see the new changes in him. He kissed her hands and hummed another sweet melody for her as she brought her head down to his shoulders.

 

> “I am so proud of you, Tarren.” She whispered in his ear. He hugged her to him and wiped away her tears.
> 
>  
> 
> “Thank you, Mom.” He kissed her hands. “I’ll make this right, I promise you. I know this is hard.” He stood and took his glass. “Where have you been, Dad? I know they haven’t kept you here on Illium.”
> 
>  
> 
> “No, they have not.” He paced the room slowly. “I’ve been on Palaven. I have been defending a stronghold of military minds, while not contributing my own opinions.”
> 
>  
> 
> “They know you have a son in combat; they’re letting you make biased decisions?” A growl almost creeped up through Tarren as he subtly let his suspicions come forth. He knew his father wouldn’t put in harm’s way, but General Vakarian would have no problems, if it came to the greater good. A jealous, betrayed sense of resentment filled him as it had when he first greeted his father mere hours ago; the seed planted one lonely, sleepless night in his cot months ago.

 

> “Son, I am making decisions to change millions of lives. Planets could be depending on what I have to say. I hope you are not naïve enough to believe that you could stop me from defending innocents.” He seemed cold; bitter. This fueled the anger more. “I love you. You really are my world, but you must understand that this could be catastrophic. They wouldn’t call me in for nothing.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Mom, what do you think?” He looked at her, tears drying on her cheeks still.
> 
>  
> 
> “Tarren, he’s right. We are confident in your abilities in combat, and we warned you of the dangers of this path in life you are taking. We have both walked it ourselves, and your father must do his job.”
> 
>  
> 
> Tarren sat quietly, sipping the firewater in his hands. He felt selfish, disgusted with this feeling. What they were saying made sense, but the look on Garrus’ face just…
> 
>  
> 
> “Dad, did you send my battalion out that day?”
> 
>  
> 
> Garrus sighed, continuing to pace. “No, son. That was the day I went to Palaven. When I got the news, I made sure you were alive and well. Your battalion has not come into my orchestration yet. This is bigger than you think, bigger than what your commanders are telling you.”
> 
>  

Tarren finished his glass, feeling the pinpricks of the alcohol tingle under his skin. He let his shoulders slump a bit and looked up at Garrus. He held his gaze at the window for long, silent moments. Garrus looked up, a emanating a feeling of unease. The muscles in Tarren’s neck began to twitch in uncomfortable spasms.

 

Jane stood to kiss her husband, then her son. “I don’t feel well. I will see you in the morning, Tarren. I love you.” He returned his love, and watched her shut the bedroom door behind her. He looked to his father who was taking off his translator. A big talk was coming, one for just the two of them. Tarren took his off as well, setting it aside. Garrus poured another glass for the both of them.

 

> “Son, I don’t want you to be angry with me. I can feel it, and its tearing me up. Seeing your mother the way she is is painful enough. I know that you’ve had to mature much too quickly. Your first encounter with death was not supposed to be the deaths of your friends. I wish I could have foreseen it and changed your path.”
> 
> “That wasn’t my first encounter with death, you know that.” Hostile, more than he had meant. “And I know you wouldn’t have changed it, because that is the only way it could have happened. It was either my comrades or innocent civilians; I know which loss is greater.”

 

Garrus sighed, rubbing his neck. Age had begun to creep up on him, and his muscles couldn’t take as much as they used to. “Tarren, I—“

 

Suddenly, the huge bay window imploded, and square object with a red, flashing light landed near their feet. Garrus grabbed Tarren and threw him across the room, running behind him. Just after they reached the cover of the sofa, the bomb blew, obliterating the décor of the living room and setting the carpet ablaze. Ghost came running from the kitchen, snarling and seething. Garrus pushed Tarren toward the bedroom in the smoke, but Tarren fought away, running down the hall to his bedroom. His suitcase held his military issued handgun. The front door was kicked in, and Batarian voices could be heard screaming commands over Ghost’s snarls. A gunshot and Ghost was silent.

 

Tarren’s heart ached for his beloved pet, but the Cold Wall came up, and all he could feel was calculated rage. He tore open the suitcase and shut the door behind him. He kept the light off, knowing the familiar feel of his gun in his hand. More gunshots, one a semi-automatic assault rifle, another sniper’s rifle, and several handguns.  He inched the door open, the Batarian commands calling out amplified. The smoke was clearing, but he could not see his parents, if they were anywhere in sight that is. He crawled low, the gun in his hands, along the wall until he could see the living room.  Thanks to the open floor plan, the house was mostly visible, save for the bathroom and two bedrooms in this hallway. Two Batarians were rummaging through drawers and blown apart furniture in the kitchen. Two others were crouching by the window, and another couple were coming toward the hall. Three of their comrades were dead, lying on the floor with blood rushing from their blown out eye sockets. Where were his parents? He could hear their weapons, but they were nowhere to be seen.

 

The police would be here soon, but a lot could be done in the time limits of ‘soon.’ He aimed his gun and shot both in midstep before their eyes could adjust enough to see him. He rolled across the frame of the archway towards his parent’s room. The other Batarians that were rummaging through the kitchen hit the floor and began to yell to the remaining two. Something about a study room and papers. Tarren ducked into his parents’ room, shutting the door behind him again. He called out to them, but got no response. Two more gunshots. The door flew open, two batarians screaming in their language. He shot the one closest to him, who dropped under a spray of brain matter and blood. The other drew his weapon first and put a slug in Tarren’s right arm. The gun flew from his hand and he braced for certain death. He was showered in a rain of blood and tissue as he shut his eyes, and was almost relieved with his death. He thought it would be more sudden and peaceful, but he felt exactly as he had a few seconds beforehand.

 

Garrus screamed his name, and he became overwhelmed with sorrow. His poor father would have to find him like this, his brains matted into the fabric of his own bed. The dull ache in his arm remained, and his left hand continued to squeeze it. His name again. He felt a sob come bubbling from his chest, and realized the seething he heard was from his own body. He opened his eyes, wiping the purple blood from his face as his own blue blood poured from his arm. His father called his name again, and he heard a scream from his mother. Rage blew up inside him. He stood, calling out to Garrus.

 

“Are you okay? Where are you? Where is mom?” He pushed past the door and past the archway. His father grabbed him by his injured bicep and pulled him over the front door of the condo, almost tripping over dead bodies. Garrus took his Omni tool and called an emergency to the hospital. Jane was clutching her stomach, bright red blood pouring from her hands.

 

> “Momma, oh, Momma…” Tarren held her in his arms.
> 
>  
> 
> “Hey, baby. Its okay, I’m fine. I just gotta go to the hospital and I will be fine, baby.” She grimaced, and then turned it into a smile momentarily. He kissed her forehead and held her tightly to him, helping press on her wound. He hummed to her, and felt her muscles relax as he went on. This sent him into a panic, but knew she was tired. Her body was partly synthetic, but her organics were feeling the pangs of age. She needed to relax.
> 
>  
> 
> “Momma, I know it hurts. But you have to stay awake, okay? Don’t go to sleep, okay?”
> 
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> 
> “Baby, I can’t understand you. I’m sleepy, I am...” Her voice was dreary and tired, but she wasn’t delusional yet. He forgot about setting down his translator. He screamed to Garrus, wanting to know when the ambulance would arrive. To Jane it was a screech and grind of rocks and metal. Garrus called back to him as he made his way over the bodies. He held his wife’s hand and smiled at her, drawing his mandibles back. He looked up to Tarren and noticed the wound. He sighed, and took his belt around his son’s arm as a tourniquet. Tarren looked down as he did so and realized the amount of blood he was losing. He felt dizzy, but looked down at his mother’s more severe wound and sobered himself.
> 
>  
> 
> “Honey, what are you doing to Tarren? He isn’t hurt, is he? Are you hurt baby?”
> 
>  
> 
> “No, Mom, I’m okay.” He tried to reassure her, but remembered she couldn’t understand.

 

> “I may not know much Turian, but a lie is universal. You’re bleeding. Let me see.” Her firm voice led him from behind her. She sighed, and rubbed his undamaged lower arm. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry honey.” She looked up to him with soft eyes. Her hands lost her grip and she began to shut her eyes. Tarren and Garrus began screaming at her, and her eyes snapped back open. Tarren ran his good hand through her hair and looked up at the flashing lights in the driveway. He picked her up, over-the-threshold style, and she laughed at this, holding her stomach in pain. He took her to the personnel running from the ambulance and loaded her in the back, his arm throbbing in protest of carrying her weight. He felt a shove from behind as Garrus lifted him into the back of the ambulance with her. He could see the worry in his face, and nodded to him. The doors shut and they were rushed away.


	9. All Doctored Up

Garrus stepped aside as crews began to work on the slowly spreading fire of the carpet and linens of the living room. Police cruisers came a few moments later, and a human and Turian approached him with boredom.

 

> “Sir, we’re sorry for your loss. When did the intrusion take place?” The human took out his data pad and began tapping on the screen, not making eye contact.
> 
>  
> 
> “Not long, I would say, officers.” He grunted at them. The Human barely glanced in response to his un-translated Turian; surely his partner could translate for him.
> 
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> 
> “James,” The Turian cleared his throat. “This is Vakarian.” The Turian nodded his respects and the human James looked up in surprise.
> 
>  
> 
> “Mr. Garrus Vakarian? I’m sorry, forgive my rudeness. Thank you so much for all you’ve done, we really appreciate it. The police force, the humans here, hell, earth most, it’s really a great honor—“The Turian elbowed him, which landed more in his shoulder, but James got the hint. “Sorry, my name is James LeFarve. Could you tell us what happened, sir?”

 

Garrus let out a chuckle. Humans and their scattered-brains were quite comical at times. Not that he was any better, really. “Why don’t you take a look inside? You might want to call the Batarian Embassy, or whatever it is they have now. And probably get ahold of Admiral Vakarian on Cipritine, Palaven. He’s going to need to send some people out here.” The officers shot each other a look, then nodded at his instruction.

 

The condo was a disaster. Nine Batarian corpses littered the home, and the smell of burned flesh hung in the air like smoke. The last of the actual smoke was fairly dissipated, and the fires had been put out. Shattered glass from the beloved bay window lay on the carpet, and papers littered the kitchen, as well as broken drawers and more shattered glass. Ghost lay in the corner of the living room in a white heap by the window, jaws still clamped on a Batarian leg.

 

Garrus went to the dead Varren and stroked his neck. A cry almost seeped out through him, but he held himself in check. Paparazzi and press would be flocking any minuet, and he would need to keep himself together. He looked up at an officer approaching him.

 

> “Don’t throw him away. Keep him here; I will take care of it.” The officer nodded and tapped on a data pad.

 

Garrus stood and went to the fireplace mantle. A fire hadn’t burned here in years probably, but it was clean and free of debris. Somehow, Nishba’al’s urn was tucked inside, the lock holding her ashes was still sealed tightly, but a hold had been punctured in the side. Some of the ashes had fallen out and drifted into the fire pit. He scooped them in as best he could and carried the urn to the bedroom, stepping over bodies. He set it in the dresser, wrapped in one of his shirts.

 

He returned to the officers and told the story. Nice family dinner, reunion with his son on leave, bomb through the window, and then all hell broke loose. The officer thanked him for his time and once again expressed their condolences. As other crews came in to take the bodies, he stepped into the kitchen and pulled a small container with 15 tubes inside. He took one out and lit it as he stepped out. He breathed in the smoke, feeling the tingle under his skin and the minty freshness brush his lungs. He coughed as he exhaled the smoke, but felt his pulse slow and muscles relax a bit. A few moments later, a dark, unmarked cruiser lighted down on the driveway.

 

A large, elderly Turian stepped out of the vehicle. Tall and wide, he would have had to turn sideways to get into the house. He wasn’t headed that way it seemed. He approached Garrus and nodded his head.

 

> “Mr. Vakarian, we are very sorry for your loss.” Garrus nodded. “I’m Kalrith from the Turian Embassy, and we are here to make sure you are treated as equally as everyone should be through the due process of law and investigation.” The man seemed to not recognize him by name or face. That was okay, he thought, it’s nice to know a stranger.
> 
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> 
> “Mr. Kalrith, I appreciate you coming out, but I am sure I can handle it. Your services are not necessary.” He took another drag.
> 
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> 
> “I am sorry, but I must insist. I am required by Illium law to be present at scenes such as this. I will stay out of your way, Mr. Vakarian, I am to supervise the police as they work with you.” Garrus felt awkward, so he nodded back to him and let the man carry on his way.
> 
>  
> 
> He found his way back into his home, which felt more like a wasteland. He found James the Human and his partner. “Gentleman, excuse me for interrupting your work, but my wife and son are at the hospital. I need to check on them. Will you direct the admiral to Mercy Hospital downtown?” Of course they agreed, and Garrus got into his own shuttle and departed the battlefield that was once his home.
> 
>  

 

* * *

 

 

> “Wow, she’s cute.” Tarren couldn’t help but notice as he was shoved into the Turian nurse that was checking his vitals. A doctor across from his was leaning over his mother and hooking her up to machines. Jane had her eyes glued and her hand cemented to Tarren. She smiled at him and confessed her love for him as the doctors gave her a shot. Her eyes shut peacefully, which sent a wave of panic through Tarren. He sprung forward, shaking her shoulders, yelling at her to wake up. The nurse beside him pulled back his arms and let her sub-vocals soothe him as she reassured she was still alive. She pointed to the flashing monitors above Jane’s head, which indicated the nurse was telling the truth.

 

He apologized to her, and let her move across him to tend to his injured right arm. He felt a tingle as she brushed her body against his. He shook his head and ignored it; his mother was critically injured in front of him.

 

She took a shot of painkillers and stabbed it into his flesh. He still couldn’t fully feel the pain in his arm, so the shot was nothing more than a dull pinch. She cut away the fabric of his clothing and began to pour disinfectant on the wound. She began to dress it and speak to him casually through her work.

 

> “I’m sorry this happened, Mr. Vakarian.” She glanced up at him.

 

> “No, Mr. Vakarian is my father. Call me Tarren.” The Cold Wall had developed a way of distracting him when it needed to, sending his mind on wild tangents and frivolous subjects; anything to take his attention away from the tragedy that just struck his family. This time, it was an old line from some Earth vid; apparently it was humorous, but he didn’t find it anything but dull and almost confusing.

 

> “I see.” She let out a nervous chuckle. “Well, Tarren, this looks like it will heal well. Didn’t hit any major arteries, lucky you, and the scar will be a cool story.” She smiled at him. “I notice you don’t have a translator on. You have a wonderful voice.”

 

Tarren smiled as the doctor shot her a look from across the shuttle. She took the hint and turned away from her patient, looking over her data pads. Tarren smiled. Sometimes he desired female companionship, but this was neither the time nor place to seek it out.

 

After a quiet ambulance ride, they arrived at the hospital. Tarren, oblivious to his own would, began to follow the stretcher containing his mother. The nurse pulled on his good arm before the doctors could have a chance to refuse him.

 

> “They won’t let you go with her. She’s going to surgery. You need to get your arm taken care of, Tarren.” She looked up at him with apologetic eyes. He sighed, knowing full well beforehand that they wouldn’t, but hoped he could sneak along for a while until someone noticed. Usually he wouldn’t complain, but damn. If this nurse didn’t have the hots for him, he might have gotten along a ways.

 

> “You’re right, ma’am. Lead the way.” She quickly took her hand away before she could be admonished for being so unprofessional. She pulled a wheelchair from the hall and took him to an exam room.

 

 

It was into the morning by the time Garrus arrived at the hospital. The Asari receptionist was confused, and gave Garrus a translator so he could retell his story. She told Garrus his wife was still in surgery, but his son was in the recovery wing and he was welcome to visit. He made his way down the long, winding halls of the massive building until he reached his son’s room. Tarren sat upright in bed with a wrap of white cotton and linen mummifying his right bicep. Tarren smiled warmly at his father’s approach.

 

> “I was resigned to the thought of being wounded, but I didn’t think it would happen in the comfort of my own home.” Tarren smiled at his own joke, but it almost broke his father. “Dad, I was joking, I’m sorry.”
> 
>  
> 
> “It was Azuren, son. They were after your mother and my documents. The police are at the house, the fires are put out, and I’m sorting things out. Everything’s going to be okay.” Garrus was trembling, and Tarren put a hand on his arm.
> 
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> 
> “Dad, it’s okay. Mom was doing very well in the ambulance. She’s going to be fine.”
> 
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> “We haven’t seen you in months. All of this has been so terrifying, and your first night here this happens. I just…” He trailed off as he looked up at the ceiling.
> 
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> 
> “Dad. It’s okay.” Tarren looked at him plainly. Garrus tried to control his shaking, but only half succeeded. Tarren looked at his father with pain, wishing he could do more to help his suffering.


	10. Pure Evil

The next day, Tarren was allowed to be discharged from the hospital. He called his commanding officer and explained the situation. The officer said his story was confirmed by massive news coverage, and he knew of his condition before Tarren placed the call. He was also told he was allowed a month of medical leave, but Tarren could take more or less if needed. He told the commandant they would keep in touch, and ended the call.

 

Jane passed through the surgery with flying colors. Her biotics were already taking care of the internal wounds, and she would be able to leave in a few short days. Short for them, Garrus supposed. He spent his days at the hospital while hired crews cleaned up the remains of their home. Liara came to visit often as well, expressing her love to the family by bringing flowers, food, and updates on the world. She did have her sources, after all.

 

Solana and Gramps even made their visits this time, staying true to their promises. After a few days, they took Garrus and Tarren to their home and let them have comforting, restful sleep and hot meals. The two were equally appreciative, as well as anxious to get back to the hospital to check on Jane. After about a week, Jane was healed enough to come home, and the crews had completed their work in restoring the condo to its former beauty. Garrus had Ghost taken to the pet cemetery in the city, and was given a proper funeral and burial when Jane felt strong enough to travel to it. Soon enough, it came time to send Tarren back to Cipritine, and he went eagerly, ready to take down Azuren. Jane became fretful after coming home; the attack made it even harder for her to sleep at night, so she began taking medication for the first time in her life.

 

Tarren had a dull niggle in his arm on his bad days, and felt nothing on the good ones. He took pain medication when it started to act up, and the nurse was right; the scar became a cool story. After a few more deployments to Cipritine, the battalion was taken back to base for more training and regroup time. The men were given jobs around the base, and were allowed at least 12 hours of free time a day/night. If you were lucky, 8 hours or so could be dedicated to sleep. Most of the men didn’t find themselves that lucky, so Tarren joined a small group of friends, including Jakmil, and toured the local bars and clubs. Many nights, he would find a beautiful lady beside him and he had some cool stories about that scar.

 

After half a year of duty on base, Tarren was given the choice to stay in service or leave. He opted to stay, and got in touch with the administration to enter Special Operations. He was given several assessments, measuring his strength, intelligence, and mental health, and was quickly established as a prime candidate. Jakmil, reluctant to leave his brother, followed Tarren’s path as far as he could. He was not accepted, but Tarren promised to keep in touch with him. Palaven had been relieved of the Azuren threat, and he had no worries that he and Jak would be drinking in another tavern not far into the future.

 

After being accepted into Special Operations, Tarren was brought to Central Base Camp 4, on the outskirts of Grathmahal, a city 3,000 miles away from Cipritine. It was pure wilderness beside the camp, and Tarren fought his urges to go AWOL and live up in the highlands. His task kept him on course, and he continued toward it with perpetual zeal.

 

Tarren’s specialty was stealth. Covert operations of slyness were his second love; hand to hand combat being his first. He was still infatuated with his assault rifle, and had taken special lessons on melee combat. His first mission was in Cartabli, a city 7,000 miles away from Grathmahal. The city was predominately Turian, but a large number of Batarians resided in the city. His spirits peaked; this could be the day he had been waiting for. This could be the base for that wicked bastard.

 

It was not. The operation was to hold up a band of Vorcha thieves that were making rounds on the city’s wealthy inhabitants. The Vorcha attempted a fight, and were mowed down by Tarren’s 3 man team. The group was sent back to Base Camp 4, and was allowed a night to celebrate the victory.

 

That night, Tarren’s mind was especially hard on him. He was ready to let loose and relax, but his memories had other plans for him. He decided the correct response would be to drown his consciousness in alcohol.

 

A few weeks later, their second mission called them to a small village outside the city limits by about 500 miles. They went by shuttle and landed near a small mining camp. The three man team was directed to the mines, in which they would neutralize the threat. The threat being whatever was kidnapping young women throughout the night. _Whatever_ , they had said, not, _who_ ever. This though rang in his mind for hours before landing and days after the job was done.

 

The team entered the mine with stealth and made their way to the main excavation cavern. There was a camp set up in the rocky crags, illuminated with flood lights. A trailer was parked in the ocean of light, and the litter of trash around it suggested it was occupied. At least some of the time, if only for angsty teenage love-making. Tarren laughed at the thought; he himself was only a teenager, going on 17. His mind wanted to wander, piddle around the fact he had never slept with a girl, as every other man in his company had. However, his number one rule was to stay focused at all times. I am focused, he would say, just not on work. He could never let his own excuses stand, he knew, his own life depended on it.

 

The three men surrounded the camper with weapons drawn. Tarren’s partner busted down the door, screaming at the occupants to put their hands up, weapons down, or die. The sight in the camper will never leave his memory; it always plays in slow motion: a middle-aged Turian stood naked in front of the assault team, turning his head at the commotion. A young Asari girl, not a day over 12, was bent over in front of him, blue blood streaming from between her legs. A filthy, fabric gag was in her mouth, and her hands were tied behind her back. The man was making revolting noises of pleasure as her screams were muffled by the gag; her vocal chords were probably raw anyways. Her body was trembling, and the man didn’t stop slamming himself into her until he was dead on the ground. Tarren took the shot.

 

He ran to the young girl as his partners drug the body away and called for an immediate pick-up. He ripped the disgusting rag from her mouth and cut the tie binding her hands. He pulled a sheet from the bed and covered her body and put another between her legs. He took her in his lap and hummed a sweet song for her, holding her close and running a hand through her hair.

 

> “It’s okay, baby. You’re safe now, I promise. We’re going to take you to a doctor and get your parent’s. You’re going to be fine, I promise.” He hummed again, while her sobs came out in craggy, jutting blasts. She vomited, and Tarren helped her, grabbing another sheet off the filthy bed.
> 
>  
> 
> “Tarren, we gotta get her out of here. I can’t get coms up.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Dune, we can’t leave without checking the area for more victims. I can’t let myself walk out of here without checking.” Tereth said to the other man.
> 
>  
> 
> “Yeah, but there’s only three of us. None of us left behind.”
> 
>  
> 
> The girl had stopped screaming, and her sobs came out as whimpers.
> 
>  
> 
> “Baby, are there other girls here? Is he the only bad man?” The human man now lay sprawled out, bloody, and naked behind the trailer. She looked up with bleary eyes.
> 
>  
> 
> “Momma is. She’s out that way. Daddy tied her up this morning.” Tarren looked up to the other two Turians.
> 
>  
> 
> “Daddy? That man who was hurting you was your dad, then?” She nodded.

 

> “Momma’s in a cave that way.” She pointed. “I know how to get there, but walking hurts. It always does.” She began to sob again, and Tarren hugged her. “My sisters used to live here too. But they’re all dead now. I was the last one.”

 

This confused Tarren. Nothing he saw was even relatively mentioned in the debrief. This girl had been abused for her while life, he mother was possibly alive or dead in this cavern, and she also had sisters. Where were the other girls that were kidnapped from the town?

 

> “Okay, honey. What if Tarren carries you? Could you show us where to find your Mommy?” She nodded eagerly, but Tarren was adamant.
> 
>  
> 
> “Dune, we need to get her out of here. She’s loosing too much blood.” He covered his translator to keep the girl from hearing. Dune sighed, and reluctantly agreed.
> 
>  

The girl was light; she probably hadn’t eaten well her whole life, and at all in days. Her frail bones struck out from her arms and legs, and Tarren was relieved to take her back to civilization. The thoughts of other girls made him want to turn back and look, but this girl’s survival depended on him getting her to safety.

 

> “Dune, keep checking coms. We need that shuttle ASAP.” Dune nodded at him and reopened him Omnitool for the thousandth time.

 

The girl had a look of relief on her face, one that he had never seen before. Her eyes sparkled at the thought of liberation, he would have bet, and this was a dream come true. He held her to his chest, one sheet wrapped around her body and another sat between her legs, collecting blood, which was coming more slowly now. Her name was Relana, a family name passed down from her great-grandmother. She was a Justicar, actually, after her grandmother was born. Her mother said she fought all the bad men of the world, making the world safe for little princesses to roam around and live happy lives.

 

> “Mommy always called me her princess.” The girl said to Tarren in a hushed voice. “She said someday she would get us out of the cave, and that I could go to school and find a prince that would take me far, far away to his castle, and he would love me and keep me safe forever.” Tarren smiled sweetly at this little story, pain wrenching his heart. “I told her someday she could have a prince too, because Daddy was mean to her.” Her lip trembled.
> 
>  
> 
> “Sweetie, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. You don’t have to be sad.” He tried to reassure her. She shook her head.
> 
>  
> 
> “No, I want to. Mommy said that if anybody came down, I have to get them to take me away with them and tell them all the secrets of the cave. That was the rule, and now you’re taking me away.” She looked off for a moment. “Are you going to save Mommy, too? I don’t want her to die like my sisters.” Her lip trembled.
> 
>  
> 
> “Yes, Relana, we’re going to save her too. We just have to get you safe first.”
> 
>  
> 
> This brightened her. “Good! She should be okay. She’s only been there since last night, and Daddy’s left her there for a week before. She got real sick last time, but she was okay.” She smiled, knowing her mom was going to be safe sent waves of relief over her.

 

The girl indulged Tarren on the terrible secrets of abuse in the cave. Brutal beatings on her, her mother, sisters, and girlfriends from the town. Sexual delinquencies committed against anyone he captured in the cave, unspeakable acts performed on animals before killing them for food. Torture in every fashion you could think. Tarren found hell that day, and he saved a young girl from certain death.

 

Relana refused to let go of Tarren as he tried to set her in the shuttle. Another shuttle dropped a crew of troops, so he allowed himself to travel to the hospital with her. By that time, she was drowsy and her eye lids were drooping. He kept her awake as the onboard doctor did a quick examination of her. Within minutes they arrived at the hospital, and Tarren promised to keep in touch with her. He didn’t.

 

He was sent back to the crime scene and helped tie up the loose ends of the situation. A heap of semi-decomposing bodies was found not far from the trailer, composed of young women on the bottom and criminally younger victims at the top. Her mother was found, starved to her bones, beaten to a pulp, and recently violated in terrible ways, as the bloody stick and pool under her suggested. She was barely conscious, but survived the trip out of the cave and to the hospital. The man was already dead, thanks to Tarren, or he would have been taken care of before ever leaving the cave.

 

That night, Tarren didn’t sleep. Nor the next night, or the one after. He began seeing a psychiatrist and taking anti-anxiety medication, but this didn’t help much. The only time he felt peace was at the bottom of the bottle, his consciousness drowned in fire water.

 

After several months of therapy and training, he was able to set out on another mission. This one was less violent and disturbing: a drug cartel had an outpost close to the camp. The three men captured the workers and took them back to base.

 

Several weeks after this, Tarren celebrated his 17th birthday, mostly with alcohol and a call to his parents. They wanted to see him, as always, but he had one more mission before he could take another leave. They understood, of course, but were anxiously awaiting his visit. He just had to survive one more, that was all.

 

A few weeks later, the time came. He entered the debriefing room and was informed of his task: raiders were attacking the hamlet of Pyat, not far from CBC4. They departed the next morning and arrived just a few hours later.

 

A simple task. Kill the raider leader, another team of 30 or so drops in and kills the rest, then rescue victims. Easy.

 

The leader was alone in his home. Dune, the sniper, took him out from the treetops. The 30 troops easily took out the rest of the raiders. He was home free. On his way out, a group of Peace Corps was rounding up villagers to take them to Cipritine. A beautiful Turian woman passed him as he was leaving for his own shuttle. Her gorgeousness struck him like a heart attack; he clutched his chest as he admired her figure. Luscious, long legs, a slender waist, and a sharp, intelligent face. He stopped dead I his tracks when she caught his eyes, He gasped; completely taken away. She giggled shyly, and he almost melted. He walked up to her, with not an ounce of fear in his heart. Her mandibles clicked nervously, in time with his thumping heart.

 

> “Hi, I’m Tarren. Are you married?” She giggled again.
> 
>  
> 
> “No, I don’t believe I am. Why—“

 

He furiously grabbed a sheet of paper from his data pad and scribbled his name and contact information down. He took another for her to do the same. She obliged.

 

> “You are the most beautiful creature on this planet. Call me by tomorrow. I’ll wait, but please, please, don’t make it too long.”

 

She smiled an amazing smile and nodded. He reluctantly left her, and glanced over his shoulder as he made his way to the shuttle.

 

The next day she actually called him from Cipritine. She wanted to meet him, golly gee hot damn, she wanted to meet up with him.  He told her he was in the military and couldn’t say where he was, but he would meet her in less than a week. She promised to call every night. Damn, she was actually into him.

 

Her name was Zia, and they talked for hours and hours. Tarren barely slept, but it was no bother to him. This infatuation kept him going.

 

Less than a week later, he did meet up with her. He had accumulated one month of leave, and began it by going immediately to Cipritine. He met up with her in a hotel called the Sterling Arch. He marched up to her room, set down his bags and locked the door. He greeted her with a vicious kiss.

 

After a 3 day rendezvous, he took a shuttle to his grandfather’s home. He was greeted once again by his aunt, but did not spend an extended period at the home. After dinner, he took another shuttle to Illium to visit his parents.

 

His mother was recovering well. Her wound left almost no scar, and she was walking without pain. He was doing well himself, and he took this as a good omen from the Spirits; life was getting back to normal. He spent a few days with his father, rebuilding the relationship he had once let become destroyed.

 

One sunny afternoon, Garrus took Tarren to the edge of town to a park that held towering trees and lush gardens. The leaves of the trees sparkled in Illium’s purple haze, and the flowers of the bloom beds shone like bright, colorful rays of light through the smog. He could smell their sweet scent as he sat across from his father at a picnic table.

 

Garrus brought his hands in front of him, rubbing them together. Tarren watched this nervous tic, and became fidgety himself. He cleared his throat.

 

> “Son, I haven’t been able to reach your files.” Garrus clicked his mandibles and rubbed his crest.
> 
>  
> 
> “That’s strange.” He paused, tilting his head slightly. “Why were you looking in my files? And why can’t we talk in front of Mom?” Garrus sighed.
> 
>  
> 
> “You know what I’m looking for.” His eyes were suddenly tired, as if he hadn’t slept in years.
> 
>  
> 
> “I haven’t been near him.” He answered simply enough. “Not that I don’t want to be on him, but I haven’t been given an assignment near Omega, where I’m sure he’s hiding in some rat hole.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Rats don’t travel far from their nests, you’re right about that.” Garrus let out a chuckle.
> 
>  
> 
> “Have you?” Tarren looked at him, almost through him.
> 
>  
> 
> “No.” He looked away.
> 
>  
> 
> “Why not? Your best friend is the Shadow Broker, why couldn’t you just go?”

 

> Garrus hushed him, looking around, and a rumble crept up from his chest. “Don’t say these things too loud. There are ears all around.”
> 
>  
> 
> “So, is that why—“
> 
>  
> 
> “Your mother is delicate, as much as she might think she isn’t. When it comes to this, I’d rather not bring it up around her. But, you can never be too careful either.”

 

Tarren rubbed his thighs, blowing air through his nostrils.

 

> “Dad, I’m going. As soon as I’m up for this year. If I can make it back, I’ll find a job somewhere. But if not, I hope I at least get him.” He kept a cool glaze over his exterior, but inside he was working up to his melting point.
> 
>  
> 
> “Not alone, kid. You have to have a team, I promise you that.” Garrus eyed him suspiciously, knowing his son would be the one to act as a lone wolf like that.
> 
>  
> 
> “I’m working on it. I swear.” He actually was. His team, Dune and Tereth, already accepted his proposal. He was sure Garrus would be there, and he was collecting information from underground sources throughout Palaven. Within six months he would be able to leave.
> 
>  
> 
> “Well, gather what you have and come to me before you go. I may not be the best at strategic military planning, but I’m damn good, and I’ve picked a thing or two up from your mother.” Garrus winked, and that sent Tarren into a fit of laughter. The two walked arms around shoulders as they left the park.


	11. Revelation to Revenge

For his last 6 months of duty, he was sent to several various missions around Palaven. He was exposed to combat in almost every one, and excelled beyond the rest. He met with the beautiful woman, Zia, a few times and spoke to her often. He was preoccupied with his goals, and did not give the relationship much of his time or effort.

 

He was finally discharged from his service on a brisk fall day. With his savings, he found a small apartment and cheap cruiser. On one occasion, he met with Liara to obtain further information on the leader of Azuren. When he had compiled a detailed plan of attack, he brought it to his father. He wished he could have his mother’s opinion as well, but couldn’t bring himself to burden her with such a heavy stress.

 

His father contributed his own thoughts, and Tarren incorporated them into his plan. When attempting to bring together his teammates, he found that Tereth had been killed in action in the mission after his departure. A rookie was on the team to take his place, and complications led to Tereth sacrificing himself for his young comrade. Tarren mourned his loss quickly, and replaced Tereth with Garrus.

 

Tarren spent one last evening with Zia before telling her he was going away for a while.

 

> “Tarren, you know I have waited months for you. Months since meeting you; I stand alone while you go on these missions and I know nothing. I wait for what seems like years of sleepless nights hoping you will come back alive rather than in a casket.”
> 
>  
> 
> Tarren lay silently beside her. A grumbling rose up quietly from his chest. He traced her arm lightly as he thought.
> 
>  
> 
> “I wait and wait and you can never tell me anything but that it will all be okay. I now it’s dangerous, if it wasn’t you could tell me where you were going at least.”
> 
>  
> 
> Tarren sighed. “Zia, I know this is hard on you. But this is incredibly important. Only a handful of people know about this mission, and I cannot compromise it, no matter how strongly I may feel for you.”

 

“No one needs to know that you said anything to me. I can keep secrets, I promise.” She sat up, holding his hand and smiling. “You’ve given me something no one else can have, why can’t you tell me something no one else can know? I don’t see a difference.”

>  
> 
> Tarren’s grumble became louder, growing with his irritation. “Zia, if I was going to tell you I would have by now. You need to accept my word as it is, because that is all you’re going to get, I promise.” He sat up as well.
> 
>  
> 
> “Why are you being so nasty to me? You want me to be with you when I hardly see you in half a year, and whenever I do, it’s all about the sex. Always.”
> 
>  
> 
> “That isn’t true!” His voice began to rise. “You know it isn’t! I can’t help that I am trying to keep our world safe, to keep you safe, and can’t be home much. This is what I need to do!”

 

Zia stood and went to the adjacent bathroom, not shutting the door.

 

The mirror reflected so that Tarren could see her trembling at the sink. He stood and went to the doorway. He leaned on the railing and looked at her. “Listen Zia, it’s not that I don’t care about you. I do know your pain, I really do. But this is something—“

 

> “Tarren, I think I’m pregnant.”

 

Tarren froze. Zia continued to shake and a seething sound came from her chest before she emptied her stomach into the toilet. Tarren felt the same urge, yet turned from her and clothed himself. Through retching she screamed his name as he began to walk out the door. He stopped and turned back to her. She was sobbing as a Turian can and cleaning herself up.

 

> “You’re not leaving me are you?”

 

> “Of course I am. I’m going on this mission, and I have something to take care of before I leave tomorrow morning at 0600.”
> 
> “That’s not what I mean!” She screeched. “How can you be like this? I’m carrying your child and you still refuse to tell me where you’re going! You’re just going to leave me!”
> 
>  
> 
> “Zia,” He crouched down to her. “You’ll still be pregnant in two weeks, won’t you?” She gave him a strange look. “If you are, and you are who you say you are, you will still be here in two weeks, and I will come back.” She looked horrified.
> 
>  
> 
> “Tarren, if you’re calling me a liar, I—“

 

> “Now I’m going to walk out that door in about 20 seconds. If you’d like to explain anything to me, for example, the glass of whiskey before our violent sexual endeavors of the night, you had better make it quick.” She sat gaping. “If your explanation is that you’re a liar, you can kiss my ass goodbye. If it’s because you’re a fucking moron, you can expect to see me in exactly two weeks in this very hotel room.”
> 
>  
> 
> “I—I’m sorry.” She pushed past him, gathering her clothes.
> 
>  
> 
> “Which one is it Zia?!” He screamed at her.
> 
>  
> 
> “Shut up, Tarren! Shut the fuck up!”

 

Tarren stopped as a revelation came to him. He approached her slowly, guiding her eyes to his own.

 

> “Are you working for him or are you just scared?” He mumbled quietly close to her ear. She glanced nervously around the room. “Zia, I know this must be hard on you. Let’s take a drive and cool off.”

 

She hurriedly threw clothes on and he took her out the door, walking calmly with his gun on his hip and her in his arm.

> “Walk slowly. They’re here and watching, listening too, I’m sure.” Zia began to shake and cry again. “You need to stop that now. That’s too much, they’ll know.” She nodded and kept an easy pace with him. They got in the cruiser and took off immediately.
> 
>  
> 
> “Can I talk now?” She clicked her mandibles hard.
> 
>  
> 
> “No.” He got out his Omni tool and called Garrus.
> 
>  
> 
> “Tarren! Good to hear from you! What’s going on?”
> 
>  
> 
> “Dad, I have someone you would like to meet. Can you meet us at Gramp’s as soon as possible? Mom, too.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Tarren, is everything alright? It’s almost three in the morning and—“
> 
>  
> 
> “Complications, Dad. You need to leave, now.”
> 
>  

Garrus was taken aback. He nodded and ended the call. Tarren flew at a reasonable speed through the city, but once on rural land he took the cruiser as fast as it would go. Zia began crying again, despite Tarren’s orders of quiet. They arrived at the home after Garrus and Shepard, so Gramps and Solana were awake, as well as startled at the situation.

 

Zia looked thin and frail in Tarren’s arms, and Solana immediately took her into her arms. Tarren stood at the ready.

 

> “Tarren, what is this all about?” Shepard demanded.
> 
>  
> 
> Tarren looked at his father. “There are some things Dad and I haven’t been completely honest about with you. But before we can go into that, Zia needs to tell me the truth.”

 

Zia began to retch before she could sob. Solana rushed her to the bathroom. The family moved to the hallway to wait for her. When the retching ended and the sobbing began Tarren opened the door.

 

> “Z, I know this is very hard, but you need to tell me so that I can help you.” Tarren kneeled next to Solana and Zia.

 

> “I am, Tarren, I am!” He held her hand. “But it’s not yours. He—He—“ She began retching again, but Tarren could fill in the blanks. He stood, the Wall hardly covering the boiling rage. He went to the cruiser and got his black case, ready for the mission for the next morning. He brought it inside and got out his communicator and contacted his other teammate, Raaj. Shepard was blown away at this point, but her military mind remained and she kept her cool throughout the confusion and apparent trauma.
> 
>  
> 
>  “Tarren, I need you to explain to us what’s going on.” Tarren ignored her for the moment and continued in his attempt to contact Raaj. He quickly got through and told him the coordinates to meet him at 0600.
> 
>  
> 
> “Tarren, you need to tell me at exactly this moment what this is all about, who that girl is, and why in the hell I am here at an ungodly hour of the morning.” Tarren looked up at her, his father behind her, and extended family behind him waiting for an explanation as well. He returned to his mother’s piercing eyes and took her by the hands.
> 
>  
> 
> “Today at 0600 I was going to set off with Dad and a comrade of mine to Omega and go after Zalerith; we’ve been planning for months and are entirely ready to do this; I am not on leave, I was honorably discharged about a month ago from the military. That is Zia, my girlfriend that I have been seeing for several months. I was saying goodbye to her when I found out that he has been watching me for some time and knows I’m coming. He hurt her the same way he hurt you and I found out just before I called you here. I am sure he’s planning another attack on your home and I don’t know any other safer places than here, so here we are. I’m sorry.”

 

She stood in cold shock. Garrus put a hand on her shoulder and hummed. She raised her hand to hit Tarren, then turned, lowering her hand to see Zia. Garrus approached him.

 

> “I think she took it well.” Garrus stood with arms behind his back.
> 
>  
> 
> “I’m not taking it well. How do we get around this? How long has he been watching? How much does he know?”

 

> “It can’t be much. Have you got a home or hotel? They have been searched, I’m sure. Anything sensitive they could have gotten to? Any sensitive conversations, other than the ones we’ve had?”
> 
>  
> 
> “No, I don’t think so. I mean—wow. I just can’t handle this right now. This is way too much. I can’t…” He glanced a look at Zia, now on the sofa with her head in his aunt’s lap and her mother examining her slightly bloated stomach. He shook his head. “I can’t be sure, but it’s not likely, unless military communications have been bugged. Raaj will be here in a few hours, then we can carry on as usual. I just—“He stole another look at her.
> 
>  
> 
> “Dad, is this how you felt?”
> 
>  
> 
> Garrus nodded solemnly. “Yes. Essentially.”
> 
>  
> 
> “This can’t go on. Not one more woman. This is my fault.”
> 
>  
> 
> Garrus took his shoulders. “Accept this now: it’s not our faults. It’ll make the next few decades a lot easier.”
> 
>  

Tarren stood coldly, allowing his own military mind to take over.

 

Once Raaj arrived, they pulled out multiple maps, diagrams and profiles, no doubt countless classified military documents. The men gathered around the table and collaborated on the finalization of the plan. Solana and Shepard tended to Zia who was not faring well, physically or psychologically.

 

That evening, Tarren, Raaj, and Garrus set out for Omega. They arrived at sunset and made their way to a club called Dalhe’shia in a shady underground community. They were fully outfitted in both range and melee weapons, compact and secluded. Unknown to the other two members, Tarren strapped a bomb to his own chest under his protective vest, just in case shit hit the fan.

 

The three men entered the club at different times and meandered their way down to a VIP room set off from the club’s main floor. They were welcomed by a nosy Vorcha, who had his neck quietly snapped by Raaj. The men continued briskly down to the VIP room.

 

The inside of the VIP room was musky and filled with smoke. Several promiscuous Asari serviced the men of the room, totaling the room’s population to about 20 or so. Tarren approached the large Batarian guarding the second hallway.

 

> “I need to see Zale. We’re expected.” The Batarian drew his gun while beginning his comeback, but was on the ground before he could finish, thanks to Garrus. The room descended into anarchy as the gun went off. Women screamed and every man drew his gun, even a few prostitutes held weapons. The three men split up, Raaj stabbing the man nearest to him and finding cover behind his body. Garrus stood on the other side of the hallway arch. Tarren rolled under the bar, taking the barkeep out from below.

 

The three men fended off the men’s attacks and killed the prostitutes that didn’t escape the room. They reloaded their weapons and continued down the hallway leading away from the VIP room.

 

The trio came to face the defenses of Azure in their long journey through the maze of hallways under the club. They eventually came to Zalerith’s rat hole, unbeknownst to him. As they entered the room, Garrus was immediately shot in the leg. Raaj suffered a fatal head wound from a blunt pipe. Tarren froze, hand on a remote. One man kicked Raaj’s corpse out of the room and shut the door. Another took Garrus’ weapons and began to beat him. Tarren looked coolly at Zalerith who laughed hysterically.

 

Zale approached Tarren while the murderer of Raaj held a pistol to Tarren’s head.

 

> “So, you went down the rabbit hole. Find what you were looking for?”

 

> “Not exactly. You looked a lot bigger in the vids.” Zale laughed. “But, I do have to say, your eye looks a lot more impressive in person.” Zale laughed harder.
> 
>  
> 
> “I see. You must get that spit fire from your mother. She sure was a fighter.” He snickered. Tarren stiffened. “Well, what did you expect in coming here, Tarren? That you and your daddy would come shoot me for all the meany mean things I did to mommy? Oh, and let’s not forget little Zia. Damn, she is a hot little thing.”
> 
>  
> 
> “You’re fucking sick.”
> 
>  
> 
> “I knew you were a little slow, you know, that whole traumatic childhood and all, but are you really just coming to that? Good job, Tarren! You figured it out all by yourself!” Zale laughed again, the muscles under his wounded eye shifting and moving in a disturbing way. Garrus let out a scream as the Batarian guard kicked him in the stomach. Tarren flinched slightly, almost enough to give him away. He relied on his Turian exterior to seem stronger than he really was to Zalerith.
> 
>  
> 
> “I’ll tell you something, Zalerith. You can say all you want. Taunt me, torture my father. But either you and I finish this, or no one is walking out of here or that club alive, and your little project will be as dead as you are.”
> 
>  

He stopped, looking at him, and noticed a small bulge under Tarren’s vest. His smile dropped.

 

> “A bomb, eh? You know how I fix that, right? Do it.” Zale smiled broadly again as he directed his lackey to put the bullet through the boy’s skull. The batarian dropped to the floor before he could squeeze the trigger. Zale frowned as he watched Garrus slice through the man’s arm with the knife hidden in his vest, which he also used to slice the other batarian across the throat almost silently. Tarren took out his pistol and put a slug into his stomach.

 

Zale stumbled backwards, falling over his desk and landing on the floor, screaming pleas of mercy.

 

> “Please, kid! I’m so sorry I’ll do anything you want, I swear it! I’ll leave your family alone, I’ll exile myself, take me to prison just don’t kill me!” Tarren glanced at Garrus.
> 
>  
> 
> “Dad, take the first one.”

 

Garrus took his knife and sliced through the Batarian’s left leg. He let out a wail of agony. Tarren took a shot at his right leg. The two took turns until he held a bullet in every appendage, and a few in his most prized weapon. He was reduced to the point of delirious seething and gasping. Tarren took his father’s knife as Garrus watched the door. Tarren carved out each of his remaining eyes, but by the time he finished, Zalerith was already past shock and dead.


	12. New Beginnings

Tarren and Garrus returned to Gramps’ the next morning. They were greeted with open arms by the family, and enjoyed a few hours of rest. Gramps contacted Palaven and informed them that the Azuren terrorist group had been all but eradicated. The two surviving men of the group were ordered to be immediately transported to HQ in Palaven to speak with the Admiral. In the meantime, they informed the rest of what happened, leaving out a few ending details. Shepard tended to her husband’s wounds, and Tarren held Zia close.

 

After reporting their secretive mission to the commanders, they were recommended to stand trial for crimes committed, including multiple counts of murder, collection of classified military documents, as well as conspiracy to commit felonies. A few words to the Admiral and all charges were dismissed. Not only due to their contributions to the universe in the past, but the ones just recently made as well.

 

After the Turians finished their business on Palaven, Tarren took them home to Illium. The condo was intact, and Shepard and Zia were waiting for them. Shepard greeted them both with an embrace, and then retreated silently to her bedroom. Zia shook Garrus’ hand and embraced Tarren. Garrus and Tarren nodded their unspoken words as Garrus followed Shepard to the bedroom, shutting the door. Tarren and Zia heard the beginnings of sobs while they left the apartment. Tarren took them to a small coffee shop down a few blocks from the condo and picked a table far from the rest.

 

> “Z, I haven’t had a chance to speak to you about any of this. We haven’t known each other for hardly six months yet, so I haven’t really talked to you about anything that really matters. I feel like this is largely my fault, so I mean, well—okay. You have two options really. Leave and hate me forever, make your own choices of the situation you are in, or stick with me and we’ll figure it all out.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Tarren,” She reached across the table to grasp his hand. “This isn’t your fault. From what I’ve heard, and seen for myself, you’re one hell of a man.” She smiled sheepishly.
> 
>  
> 
> “I wish I was what my mother makes me out to be. I’m not the best guy you could have; I have a lot of secrets. But, you can take it or leave it at this point.”
> 
>  

She sat silently for a moment, contemplating her life as he explained everything to her; from his childhood nightmare to present. When he had finished, she took his hand and set some money on the table while standing. He got his keys and led her to the cruiser, taking her away from this part of the city to his condominium.

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel! Many excite! Second chapter is done, but needs revisions; I will post that tomorrow probably. This chapter is kinda bland, and just kinda recaps the games themselves. DEAL WITH IT cuz' the next chapter has all the emotions and love and feels and angst. XD  
> <3  
> Enjoy!
> 
> PS: If there is a mistake in any of the plot (as far as the game goes) please let me know!


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